T 


X 


IDTr  PV    MAKffV 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


DRAMATIC  WORKS  OF  J.  HARTLEY  MANNERS 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 


BY  J.  HARTLEY  MANNERS 

The  National,  Anthem 

The  Harp  of  Life 

A  Play  in  Three  Acts 

Three  Plays 

God's  Outcast:  All  Clear  and 
God  of  My  Faith 

Happiness 

and  Two  Other  Plays 

Wreckage 

A  Drama  in  Three  Acts 

Out  There 

A  Dramatic  Composition  in 
Three  Parts,  on  the  World  War 

The  Wooing  of  Eve 

A  Comedy  in  Three  Acts 


THE 
NATIONAL   ANTHEM 

A  DRAMA 


BY 

J.  HARTLEY  MANNERS 


NEW  XSJr  YORK 
GEORGE  H.  DORAN  COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,  1922, 
BY  J.  HARTLEY  MANNERS 

ALL    BIGHTS   HESEIIVE1),    INCLUDING    THOSE 
OF   TRANSLATION 


THE    NATIONAL    ANTHEM,    t 
PRINTED  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES  OE  AMERICA 


plf 


TO 

LAURETTE  TAYLOR 
AND  HER  LOYAL  ASSOCIATES 

WHO    DID    SO    MUCH    TO    MAKE    IT    MEMORABLE, 

I   DEDICATE    THIS   PLAY, 

IN  ADMIRATION   AND  HIGH   REGARD. 

The  Authob 


o 


[Reproduction  of  Original  Programme.] 

Produced  at  Henry  Miller's  Theatre,  New  York, 
on  Monday,  January  23rd,  1922. 


LAURETTE  TAYLOR 

in 

THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

A  Play  in  Four  Acts 
By  J.  Hartley  Manners 


Produced  under  the  Personal  Direction  of  the  Author 
Management  of  A.  L.  Erlanger  and  George  C.    Tyler 


[vi] 


[Original  Programme:  Continued] 


MARIAN    HALE 
MADELINE  TRENT 
MAUD-ETHEL 
ETTA 

ARTHUR  CARLTON 
JOHN  K.  CARLTON 
TOM   CARROL 
REUBEN    HALE 
JIM  PICKET 
NED  SCOOFY 
DR.  VIRANDE 
WAITER 


The  Characters 

Laurette  Tat/lor 

Miss  Lillian  Kemble  Cooper 

Miss  Jo  Wallace 

Miss  Greta  Kemble  Cooper 

Mr.  Ralph  Morgan 

Mr.  Dodson  Mitchell 

Mr.  Frank  M.  Thomas 

Mr.  Richie  Ling 

Mr.  Robert  Hudson 

Mr.  Ray  Wilson 

Mr.  Paul  Porcasi 

Mr.  William  Armstrong 


The  Scenes 
Act       I — northchester     Summer 
Act      II — new  YORK 

Act     III PARIS 

Act      IV       THE  SAME 


Winter 

Spring 

The  Afternoon  of  the  Tenth 
Day 


[vii] 


FOREWORD 

THE    NATIONAL  ANTHEM   OF   CIVILIZATION 

This  is  the  Age  of  the  Young. 

Civilization  is  to  be  built  anew  by  them. 

The  old  standards  have  been  found  wanting. 

They  brought  about  destruction. 

New  ones  are  to  be  founded — by  the  Young. 

The  War  shattered  the  old:  stunned  the  middle-aged. 

The  ideals  they  had  clung  to  so  long  disappeared. 

It  is  for  them  to  give  all  they  have — their  strength, 
their  faith,  to  help  the  Young  found  the  new  Civilization. 

The  call  has  gone  out  to  Youth. 

How  has  it  been  answered? 

Those  of  them  who  came  back  from  the  War,  having 
done  all  that  was  asked  of  them,  instinctively  flew  to 
forgetfulness  of  what  they  had  suffered. 

It  was  natural.  It  has  always  been  the  outcome  of 
conflict.   After  the  fight  the  craving  to  forget  in  pleasure. 

But — those  who  were  too  young  to  brave  the  dangers 
of  1914-1918,  now  reaching  an  age  when  they  can 
help? 

How  have,  they  responded  ? 

Alas !  they,  too,  have  followed  the  craving  for  pleasure, 
without  the  excuse  of  Service  nobly  given. 

[ix] 


FOREWORD 

They  are  following  it  to-day — undisciplined,  unli- 
censed, degrading. 

The  old  and  the  middle-aged  are  too  feeble,  too  dis- 
couraged to  check  them.  They  meekly  yield  to  the  reck- 
less importunity  of  the  conscience-less  Young. 

Just  as  it  is  the  duty  of  Age  to  protect  Youth  so  that 
it  may  re-create  civilization  so  it  is  the  mission  of  Youth 
to  step  bravely  to  the  Front  and  accept  the  responsibility 
it  has  been  born  to  shoulder. 

Too  many  give  not  a  thought  to  their  very  evident 
duty. 

From  morn  until  night  how  often  they  think  only  of 
how  the  hours  may  be  speeded  in  unhealthy  activities, 
ribald  conversation  and  the  most  vulgar  of  sensuous  ex- 
citement. 

There  are  three  curses  to-day  menacing  the  Young: — 
drink,  the  blare  of  the  dancing-craze  and  the  automobile. 

Drinking  has  become  romantic. 

Dancing,  shorn  of  all  its  old-time  beauty,  is  but  a 
pandering  to  the  dawn  of  awakening  lusts. 

The  automobile  driven  by  mere  children,  is  the  crown- 
ing example  of  the  New  Freedom.  Through  its  mis-use 
have  arisen  many  modern  tragedies:  tragedies  of  Youth. 

The  old  deference  and  respect  of  boy  to  girl,  young 
man  to  young  woman  has  passed.  The  girl  exacts  none: 
the  boy  has  no  instinct  to  proffer  it. 

Rudeness  has  taken  the  place  of  courtesy.  Slang,  in- 
nuendo, and  crude  double-entendre  provide  the  major 
portion  of  their  conversation. 

The  old  are  pushed  into  the  back-ground. 

M 


FOREWORD 

They  have  taken  their  places  there  without  a  murmur. 

Tired,  world-weary,  they  wait  for  the  final  release. 

The  Young  rarely  think  of  them.  When  they  speak 
of  them  it  is  with  some  current,  happy  turn-of-phrase — 
"Dumb-bells" 

They  are  objects  of  derision  since  pity,  to-day,  finds 
no  place  in  Youth's  curriculum. 

Religion  has  been  banished:  a  sop  to  children  and  the 
weak-minded. 

"Good-times"  is  the  slogan. 

And  back  of  Youth  beat  the  tom-toms,  and  blare  the 
horns,  and  scream  the  discords  of  modern  civilization's 
saturnalia — Jazz. 

It  has  the  Young  by  the  throat. 

It  is  the  post-graduation  from  Youth  to  Manhood, 
from  girl  to  woman. 

It  is  the  diploma,  the  mark  of  the  really  civilized ! 

Jazz! 

What  a  mental  picture  rises  as  one  sees  the  word  in 
print. 

Civilization  chants  its  tune  as  an  anthem. 

And  bodies  writhe  and  intermingle  and  brains  rattle 
in  skulls  as  the  ghastly  jigging  procession  circles  under 
blazing  lights  to  the  cheap,  deafening  'music' (  !)  of  the 
tire-less  orchestras. 

It  will  pass. 

It  must — if  the  new  civilization  is  to  be  founded. 

Jazz  represents,  in  part,  the  revolt  against  restriction: 
against  Puritanism:  and  the  century-old  fight — age  ver- 
sus  youth.      To-day  the   struggle  is  less   intense   since 

[xi] 


FOREWORD 

Youth  has  thrown  off  such  nineteenth-century  shackles 
as  veneration  and  affection. 

How  seldom  one  sees  the  mingling  of  old  and  young. 

How  beneficial  it  might  be  to  both. 

Cromwell,  amongst  other  lesser  things,  proved  that 
barriers  create  incentives. 

So  Prohibition  has  brought  the  hip-flask  and  exalted 
its  wearer  to  the  ranks  of  heroism. 

Anti-vice  societies  occupy  columns  in  the  newspapers 
with  their  activities.  And  Youth  greedily  snatches  at  the 
modern  dance  for  the  quickening  of  lusts  and  the  auto- 
mobile for  their  gratification. 

Restrictive  laws  weaken  character. 

Protect  people  from  themselves  by  law  and  you  foster 
a  race  of  weaklings. 

The  publicity  given  to  societies  who,  in  banishing 
segregated  vice  spread  it  all  through  healthy  communi- 
ties, is  a  keen  incentive  to  a  section  of  the  Young  with 
no  ideals,  no  reverence,  no  respect.  It  arouses  unhealthy 
curiosity,  morbid  cravings  and  premature  passions. 

And  so  the  sexes  mingle  in  degrading  embrace  to  tunes 
the  Indian  and  the  Negro  would  despise,  and  emulate 
publicly  the  indecency  philanthropic  men  and  women 
are  spending  time  and  money  to  check  among  the  less- 
fortunate  classes. 

Jazz  has  become  a  Dance  of  Death — the  Death  of 
Youth. 

Decency,  veneration  and  mutual  respect  are  left  be- 
hind with  the  cloaks  and  hats  in  the  tiring-roouis  of  the 
jazz-palaces. 

[xii] 


FOREWORD 

How  long  will  it  last? 

Until  the  dawn  of  the  new  Youth  proclaims  the  coming 
of  the  new  Civilization. 

Jazz  is  but  the  symbol  of  this  generation. 

It  is  not  the  cause  of  the  present  decadence:  it  is  the 
outcome  of  it. 

With  higher  thought,  nobler  ideals  and  a  return  to 
mutual  respect  and  reverence  jazz  will  revert  to  whence 
it  came — to  the  haunts  of  the  degenerate  and  the  hope- 
lessly vicious. 

And  Youth  must  do  this. 

Youth  must  awaken  to  the  glorious  possibilities  that 
stretch  before  it. 

How  wonderful  it  is  to  be  Young  to-day ! 

There  is  so  much  to  do. 

Society  must  be  re-established  with  such  of  the  old 
customs  as  we  can  still  look  back  on  with  pride  at  having 
lived  amidst  and  sorrow  at  their  passing,  added  to  a 
newer  and  higher  standard. 

Only  the  Young  can  accomplish  this  re-building. 

I  think  they  will. 

We  are  living  amidst  the  re-action  from  years  of  pri- 
vation and  suffering. 

In  its  turn  will  come  re-action  against  the  present 
vulgar  and  debasing  practises.  And  the  votaries  of  to-day 
will  look  back,  years  to  come,  in  dismay  and  remember 
with  loathing  the  degraded  spectacle  they  presented  to 
the  people  of  their  time. 

The  to-morrow  of  Youth  will  come. 

They  will  rise  from  the  slough  they  are  in  to-day. 

[xiii] 


FOREWORD 

They  will  throw  themselves  heart-whole  into  helping 
a  war-distracted  world  to  re-build  itself. 

Manliness  will  no  longer  be  a  synonym  for  black- 
guardism :  it  will  be  once  more  the  symbol  of  the  gentle. 

Girls  and  young  women  will  cease  to  emulate  the  move- 
ments and  demeanor  of  the  harlot  in  public  places  and 
return  to  the  grace  and  beauty  of  the  women  of  former 
generations. 

Rhythm  of  movement  will  return  to  the  dance  and 
music  will  be  restored  to  the  ball-room. 

To-day  hideousness,  roughness,  discord  and  loud- 
mouthed coarseness  delight  Youth. 

In  the  near  future  they  will  have  lost  their  magic. 

The  world  was  fashioned  in  beauty. 

Man  has  made  it  temporarily  hideous. 

Beauty  is  our  birth-right. 

It  is  for  this  generation  to  restore  it.  To  bring  back 
grace  and  courtesy:  man's  high  regard  for  woman:  her 
instinctive  looking  upward  to  him. 

Above  all  must  be  restored  veneration  for  God,  coun- 
try and  home. 

How  long  must  we  wait? 

Until  Youth  awakens  to  its  obligations. 

Then,  and  then  only,  will  we  have  a  world-beautiful, 
guided  by  reverence,  and  peopled  by  men  and  women  of 
high  hope,  unbounded  faith  and  mutual  admiration  and 
love. 

J.  Hartley  Manners. 
August,  1922 

[xiv] 


CONTENTS 


PAGR 


Foreword:  THE    NATIONAL    ANTHEM    OF 

CIVILIZATION vii 

Act  I:      NORTHCHESTER 15 

Act  II:    NEW  YORK 82 

Act  III:  PARIS 142 

Act  IV:  THE     AFTERNOON     OF     THE 

TENTH  DAY 177 


THE  PEOPLE  OF  THE  PLAY 

Marian  Hale 
Madeleine  Trent 
Etta 

Maud-Ethel 
John  K.  Carlton 
Reuben  Hale 
Arthur  Carlton 
Tom  Carrol 
Jim  Picket 
Ned  Scoofy 
Dr.  Virande 
Waiter 

Act  I:    NORTHCHE8TER 

Act       II:    NEW  YORK 

Act   III:  paris 

Act   IV:  THE  SAME.  THE  AFTERNOON  OF  THE  TENTH  DAY 


Written  1921 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 


THE 

NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

Act  I:   NORTHCHESTER 

The  back-porch  of  a  country  club  in  Northchester. 
Afternoon.  From  within  the  club  for  some  little  time 
before  the  curtain  rises  an  excellent  orchestra  is  heard 
playing  a  series  of  stirring  jazz  tunes  popular  during 
the  year  1920.  After  the  curtain  has  risen  little  waves 
of  chatter  and  youthful  laughter  rise  and  fall  from  the 
club  house  as  the  dancers  approach  and  recede  from 
the  windows.  The  porch  has  several  small  tables  with 
chairs  grouped  around  them  and  on  the  lawn  stretch- 
ing from  the  porch  are  several  more.  At  one  of  them 
is  seated  John  K.  Carlton,  a  vigorous,  powerful  man 
of  fifty-five.  He  is  in  a  well-cut  traveling  suit;  wears 
a  light  grey  hat.  All  the  details  of  his  attire  suggest  a 
man  of  considerable  means  and  no  small  personal 
pride.  Shoes,  socks,  shirt  and  tie  are  of  unusual  quality 
and  a  single  pearl  pin  matches  the  grey  of  his  clothes. 
He  listens  to  the  spirited  jazz  music  and  unconsciously 
keeps  time  to  its  infectious  gaiety  with  his  head,  his 
fingers  and  his  feet,  though  to  judge   by   the  stern, 

[15] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

somewhat  grim  expression  on  his  face  his  mind  is  far 
from  dancing. 

A  sunburnt  ground  attendant,  in  shirt-sleeves,  the  shirt 
rolled  up  and  held  by  elastic  bands,  tools  in  hand, 
crosses  from  behind  the  club-house.  As  he  hears  the 
music  his  steps  quicken  and  he  disappears  jigging 
awkwardly  and  humming  the  tune. 

Two  small  caddies  appear  from  the  right  of  the  lawn 
with  nets  on  poles,  chatting  and  laughing.  They  also 
hear  the  music;  one  ejaculates:  "Gee"  and  taking  the 
other  by  the  shoulders  they  jazz  clumsily  off. 

A  Waiter  comes  from  within,  down  the  steps,  with  a  tray 
on  which  is  a  long  glass  of  lemonade  with  straws.  He 
goes  to  the  table  at  which  Carlton  is  seated,  puts  glass 
down  and  hands  Carlton  a  check  to  sign.  Whilst  he  is 
signing  it  the  Waiter  jazzes  unconsciously  to  the  mu- 
sic. Carlton  hands  the  waiter  the  check  who  instantly 
stops  jazzing. 

CARLTON 

I've  signed  my  son's  name.     I'm  not  a  member. 

WAITER 

[Glances  at  check.]  Oh,  yes,  Sir.  Mr.  Arthur  Carl- 
ton. That  will  be  all  right.  [Involuntarily  twitching  to 
dance.] 

CARLTON 

What's  the  name  of  that  ?     [Indicating  music] 

WAITER 

"You'd  be  surprised."  Some  snap  to  it,  Sir.  [Carl- 
ton drinks  throurjh  the  straws.] 

[W] 


Act  I:    NORTHCHESTER 

[Waiter  shuffles  off  to  the  club-house  swaying  his 
shoulders  to  the  tune.  As  he  reaches  the  steps'  a 
jolly-looking  man  of  middle-age,  dressed  for  golf, 
knee-breeches,  rolled  stockings,  low  shoes,  flannel 
shirt,  open  at  the  collar,  and  thin  grey  sweater, 
carrying  coat  on  arm  and  mopping  his  forehead, 
comes  out  of  the  club-house.  He  is  Reuben  Hale. 
He  speaks  to  the  waiter,  who  says  "Yes,  sir"  and 
disappears  into  the  club-house.  Hale  goes  straight 
down  to  Carlton  who  rises  to  greet  him.  They 
shake  hands  zvarmly.  During  the  scene  that  follows 
the  dance-music  occasionally  stops,  followed  by  sus- 
tained hand-clapping ;  then  the  dance  is  taken  up 
again.  ] 

HALE 

Spafford  told  me  you  were  out  here.     How  are  you? 

CARLTON 

Fine.    You  look  well. 

HALE 

Never  better. 

CARLTON 

Dancing? 

HALE 

Not  yet.    Just  finished  eighteen  holes  of  golf.     I  may 
have  a  turn  or  two  presently. 

CARLTON 

[Amused  and  disgusted.]     Ye  don't  say? 

HALE 

I'm  crazy  about  it.     It  keeps  us  old  'uns  young. 

[17] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

CARLTON 

And  the  young  'uns  old. 

HALE 

Oh,  I  don't  know.  A  bit  of  fun  is  all  right.  Marian's 
inside  somewhere.     Dancing  with  Arthur  likely  as  not. 

CARLTON 

7*  she? 

HALE 

What  are  you  doing  here? 

CARLTON 

I've  come  for  Arthur. 

HALE 

Oh? 

CARLTON 

His  mother  wants  him  for  a  bit  at  Bar  Harbor. 

HALE 

I  don't  think  he'll  want  to  go. 

CARLTON 

He'll  go. 

HALE 

He's  been  the  life  and  the  soul  of  the  season  here. 

CARLTON 

More  life  than  soul  from  what  I  hear. 

HALE 

[Laughing  good-naturedly.]     That's  true,  too. 

[Waiter  brings  White  Rock  with  glasses,  ice,  etc. 
Hale  signs  check.  Waiter  is  again  markedly  affected 
by  the  music  and  sidles  off  to  it.] 

[18] 


Act  I:    NORTHCHESTER 

HALE 

[Takes  a  flask  from  his  hip-pocket  and  pours  liquor  in 
glass.     Holds  up  flask  to  Carlton.]     Have  some? 

CARLTON 

[Shakes  his  head  negatively.]     Huh-huh. 

HALE 

Haven't  cut  it  out,  have  ye  ? 

CARLTON 

No.     Just  at  meals  and  one  or  two  before  I  turn  in. 

HALE 

I  was  going  to  say.  At  our  time  of  life.  [Drinks 
deeply  and  heartily;  gives  a  breathless,  satisfied  sigh.] 
Ha !  I  needed  that.  Any  fanatic  who  would  take  it 
away  from  a  man  after  eighteen  holes  on  a  hot  day  is  a 
public  menace.  [Carlton  laughs  drily.]  That's  what 
this  particular  part  of  the  porch  is  for. 

CARLTON 

Is  it? 

HALE 

Tea  and  lemonade  on  the  front-porch  where  they  can 
watch  the  tennis: — respectability.  Flasks  and  mineral 
water  on  the  back-porch.  Damnation.  Splendid  isola- 
tion.    Me!     [Finishes  drink  and  laughs.] 

CARLTON 

No  women,  eh  ? 

HALE 

No  women?  You  wait  till  the  dance  is  over.  That's 
their   table.      [Pointing   to  one  on   porch.]      And   why 

[19] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

shouldn't  they?     If  they  want  it?     Not  a  bit  of  harm. 
Dance  it  off,  and  have  some  more.     Does  'em  good. 

CARLTON 

I've  wondered. 

HALE 

Ye  needn't.  As  nice  a  bunch  of  healthy,  good-looking 
girls  as  you  want  to  see.  Full  of  life  and  fun.  Not  an 
atom  of  harm  in  one  of  'em. 

CARLTON 

What  a  favored  spot  you've  dropped  into. 

HALE 

That's  why  your  boy  loves  it. 

CARLTON 

I  can  quite  believe  it.     Especially  the  back-porch. 

HALE 

I  never  saw  a  young  man  get  more  out  of  life.  Bright 
and  jolly  all  day  and  every  day.  And  you've  come  to 
take  him  away ? 

CARLTON 

Yes.     And  about  time. — Eh? 

HALE 

Oh ;  I  don't  know. 

CARLTON 

Don't  you? 

HALE 

No,  I  don't.     No  harm  in  him. 

CARLTON 

Not  much  good  either,  Reuben. 

[20] 


Act  I:    NORTHCHESTER 

HALE 

Oh!  Get  out.  What  is  he?  Twenty-four?  [Carl- 
ton nods.]  What's  the  use  of  being  young  if  ye  don't 
act  young?    We  get  old  quick  enough. 

CARLTON 

That's  about  all  you  can  say  for  Arthur.  He's  young. 
And,  being  the  son  of  a  rich  man,  there  is  no  harm  in 
anything  he  does.  [Takes  out  letter  and  looks  at  it.] 
Arrested  twice  in  ten  days  for  speeding.  Turned  out  of 
one  of  those  damned,  low-lived,  dancing  road-houses  one 
night  last  week,  and  has  made  himself  a  general  nuisance 
to  all  the  decent  members  of  the  club  ever  since  he's  been 
here.     [Holds  up  letter.]     How  about  it? 

HALE 

I'm  decent,  John,  and  I  like  him.  Who's  filled  you 
up  with  that  stuff?  [Pointing  to  letter.]  Old  Crashaw, 
eh?  He  don't  belong  to  a  man's  club.  He  should  join 
a  sewing-bee.  ...  I  know  all  about  it.  The  bicycle 
cop  arrests  us  all.  They've  got  tired  fining  me.  And  as 
for  the  road-house,  someone  had  been  rude  to  Marian, 
and  Arthur  punched  him.  And  I'm  damn  glad  he  did. 
And  so  ought  you  be. 

CARLTON 

[Looks  at  him  keenly.]     Rude  to  your  daughter,  eh? 

HALE 

Yes.  A  little  party  of  them  drove  over  to  "Mossy 
Grove."    A  nice  enough  place.    The  right  people  around 

[21] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

here  go  to  have  a  chat  and  a  dance  once  in  a  while.  And 
some  fellow  from  New  York  tried  to  butt  in  and  Arthur 
wouldn't  stand  for  it. 

CARLTON 

You  let  Marian  go  to  road-houses? 

HALE 

Why  not?     Where's  the  harm? 

CARLTON 

Maybe  not.  ...  I  wouldn't  like  my  girl  to  go  around 
in  that  sort  of  company. 

HALE 

Rubbish.     They  all  go.     Marian  loves  to  dance  and 
she's  crazy  about  Arthur. 

CARLTON 

Oh?     Is  that  so? 

HALE 

They're  always  together. 

CARLTON 

And  you  don't  mind? 

HALE 

Mind?    I'm  just  as  fond  of  him  as  she  is. 

CARLTON 

I  see.  .    .   .  I'd  mind,  Reuben,  if  he  was  your  son  and 
Marian  my  daughter. 

[22] 


Act  I:    NORTHCHESTER 

HALE 

[Laughing  heartily.]  Oh,  come  off,  John.  .  .  .  Let 
'em  have  a  good  time  amongst  themselves.  It's  better 
than  the  young  men  rotting  around  cities  with  the  other 
sort,  take  it  from  me.  I  don't  know  any  boy  I  like  as 
well  as  I  do  Arthur.  He's  quite  one  of  the  family. 
Beats  me  at  golf  in  the  morning;  licks  everyone  at  tennis 
in  the  afternoon,  with  Marian  as  his  partner;  and  twice 
a  week  takes  my  money  at  "auction." 

CARLTON 

[Grimly.]  Quite  one  of  the  family.  Would  you  like 
to  have  him  really  in  it? 

HALE 

Sure  I  would.     If  Marian  wanted  to. 

CARLTON 

Reuben!  A  charming  girl  like  Marian — and — Arthur! 

HALE 

Why  not? 

CARLTON 

She  deserves  something  better  than  my  drunken  whelp 
of  a  son. 

HALE 

Here !    Here ! 

CARLTON 

What  else  is  he? 

HALE 

If  it  comes  to  that  you  haven't  done  much  to  make  him 
anything  else. 

[23] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

CARLTON 

I  gave  up  any  hope  of  doing  it  long  ago.  I  don't  have 
to  take  a  yard-stick  to  measure  a  man.  I  employ  too 
many.  At  his  age  I  was  responsible  for  a  hundred  men 
and  could  handle  'em,  too.  I  didn't  get  to  that  bj7  golf, 
tennis,  "auction"  and  dancing  either. 

HALE 

How  do  you  know  Arthur  couldn't?  Why  didn't  you 
give  him  a  push-off  if  you  wanted  him  to  follow  you? 

CARLTON 

Because  I  knew  he  wasn't  worth  it. 

HALE 

Oh,  come.  .  .  . 

CARLTON 

He  was  kicked  out  of  two  schools.  Spent  a  drunken 
year  at  college  and  I  was  asked  to  take  him  away.  Now 
he's  a  parasitic  loafer  living  on  me  and  his  mother. 
[With  an  ejaculation  of  disgust.]  What's  the  use  of 
wasting  thought  on  him? 

HALE 

You  just  shirk  the  job,  eh? 

CARLTON 

No.     I  chucked  it.  .  .  .  Let  him  do  as  he  likes. 

HALE 

Why  not  cut  off  supplies  and  make  him  work?  That's 
what  I'd  have  done  instead  of  throwing  my  hands  up 
and  putting  the  blame  on  him. 

[24] 


Act  I:    NORTHCHESTER 

CARLTON 

No,  Reuben,  you  wouldn't.  .  .  .  Not  Arthur.  There 
are  too  many  in  the  penitentiaries  as  it  is.  That's  where 
he'd  have  finished  up  if  I  left  him  to  shift  for  himself. 
.  .  .  He  can  have  all  the  money  he  wants.  ...  It  isn't 
that.  He  has  no  character,  Reuben.  .  .  .  Pretty  tough 
for  me  to  have  to  say  it.  ...  I  wouldn't  have  if  you 
hadn't  told  me  your  girl  liked  him.  .  .  .  Keep  her  away 
from  Arthur's  kind.  ...   I  like  Marian. 

HALE 

And  I  like  Arthur.  In  spite  of  his  faults.  .  .  . 
Marian  knows  them  as  well  as  I  do.  He's  a  clean,  manly 
boy.  Straight  as  a  string.  Drinks  a  bit  too  much  once  in 
awhile.  What  of  it?  Who  doesn't?  Especially  now 
that  we  are  told  we  mustn't.  ...  I  hate  to  hear  you 
talk  about  him  that  way,  John. 

CARLTON 

Not  more  than  I  do  to  have  to,  Reuben. 

HALE 

Going  to  take  him  away?  .  .  .  Now? 

CARLTON 

Yes.  Tonight.  They've  been  writing  this  sort  of 
letter  to  his  mother — it  isn't  the  only  one — and  she's 
worried.     She'd  like  him  with  her  for  a  bit. 

HALE 

Wow!  .  .  .  That's  tough.  The  tennis-tournament 
next  week.  He  and  Marian  are  sure  to  win  the  doubles. 
Golf  handicap  the   following  Thursday.     And  a   mas- 

[25] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

querade  when  the  prizes'll  be  given.  .  .  .  Too  bad.  .  .  . 
Marian'll  be  upset  too.  .  .  .  She's  really  fond  of  him, 
John. 

CARLTON 

Think  she  wants  to  marry  liim? 

HALE 

I    wouldn't    be    surprised.  .  .  .  We've    never    talked 
about  it. 

CARLTON 

And  you'd  let  her? 

HALE 

Sure  I  would.  All  I  care  about  is  to  see  her  happy 
and  if  Arthur's  the  one  to  do  it  I'm  satisfied. 

CARLTON 

You  never  had  much  sense,  Reuben. 

HALE 

[Laughs  good-humouredly.]  I've  had  enough  to  en- 
joy every  minute  of  my  life.     So's  my  girl. 

CARLTON 

Wake  up.  Get  her  out  of  the  drinking,  jazzing  set. 
She's  worth  better  than  that. 

HALE 

[Laughing.]  There's  no  harm  in  it.  Young  people 
will  have  their  fun  all  the  world  over.  It  happens  to  be 
the  kind  they  like  this  generation.  It,  will  pass  and 
something  else  will  take  its  place.  Worse,  maybe.  .  .  . 
It's  always  the  way  with  restrictions.  Ye  don't  form 
character  by   "Don'ts"!     I've  neve?  believed  in  them. 

[26] 


Act  I:    NORTHCHESTER 

Make  blue-laws  and  it's  fun  to  break  'em.  .  .  .  After  a 
bit  the  novelty  will  wear  off".  It'll  be  exciting  no  longer. 
The  zest  will  have  gone.  .  .  .  That's  all  our  young  peo- 
ple are  doing.  Having  a  good  time.  By  and  bye  it 
won't  seem  so  good  and  maybe  they'll  sit  home  around 
the  radiator  and  knit,  and  talk  about  us,  same  as  we  are 
about  them.  .  .  .  Not  a  bit  of  harm  in  any  of  'em  as  far 
as  I  can  see. 

CARLTON 

You're  very  cheery  about  it.  You  don't  have  to  handle 
thousands  of  working-men  growing  more  and  more  dis- 
contented every  day  just  because  of  the  very  things 
Arthur  and  his  kind  are  doing.  They  don't  see  why 
they  should  do  without  something  they've  had  all  their 
lives  while  my  son  can  get  all  he  wants.  And  you  say 
"no  harm" ! 

HALE 

None  at  all.  As  long  as  they  do  it  in  their  homes  and 
their  clubs. 

CARLTON 

Is  that  so? 

HALE 

Where's  the  harm? 

CARLTON 

The  man  that  keeps  the  golf-course  in  shape  sees 
them — on  the  back-porch.  The  caddies  see  'em.  And 
they  go  back  to  their  wretched  little  homes  and  spread 
it.  It's  eating  in  like  a  cancer.  .  .  .  Everywhere.  .  .  . 
I  know  because  lots  of  'em  work  for  me.  .  .  .  And  a 

[27] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

pretty  sullen  lot  the  workmen  of  today  are  becoming 
because  of  the  Arthurs.    And  you  say  "No  harm  at  all." 
[The  dance-music  rises  to  a  wild  pitch  aided  by  the 
scream  of  the  laughing-horn  and  the  beating  of  tom- 
toms.    Thru  and  above  the  noise  the  merry  laughter 
of  the  dancers  floats  out  happily  thru  the  windows. 
Carlton  has  to  stop  for  a  moment,  the  crash  is  so 
insistent.     He  gives  an  ejaculation  of  fervent  dis- 
gust.     When   the   music   quiets   down   he   goes   on 
vehemently.'] 
Listen   to   that   damned    senseless,   barbaric    discord. 
The  kind  of  sound  you'd  expect  Indians  or  negroes  to 
beat  out  when  they're  frenzied  with  rum.  .  .  .  Listen ! 
You  can  hear  their  brains  rattling  in  their  skulls.     God ! 
It's  become  like  a  national  anthem !     Whenever  a  band 
strikes  up  a  jazz  I  feel  like  standing  up  and  taking  my 
hat  off.     It  is  our  national  anthem! 

[The  music  stopped  a  few  seconds  before  he  finished 
speaking.  There  is  a  good  deal  of  chatter  and 
laughter  as  two  young  men  and  two  young  girls 
come  out  of  the  club-house,  very  hot,  very  happy. 
They  are  mopping  perspiring  brows  panting  with 
healthy  exhaustion  and  humming  the  jazz  music 
that  disturbs  Carlton  so  greatly.  They  group 
around  a  table  amidst  much  scratching  of  wooden 
chairs  on  the  wooden  porch.  The  young  men  (Jim 
Picket  and  Ned  Scoofy)  produce  flasks  from  their 
pockets.  Waiter  brings  glasses,  water,  and  min- 
eral waters.  Ned  signs  check,  and  Waiter  takes  it 
into  the  club-house.     As  they  mix  drinks  the  young 

[28] 


Act  I:    NORxHCHjfiSTER 

people  chatter  vigorously.     The  two  older  men  stop 
talking  and  listen.] 

ETTA 

What  a  stunning  band ! 

JIM 

Arthur  brought  it  from  "Mossy-Grove." 

MAUD-ETHEL 

That  accounts  for  the  number  of  encores. 

NED 

The  leader  took  his  signal  from  Arthur. 

ETTA 

As  long  as  Marian  could  keep  going  we  had  to. 

JIM 

/  didn't  mind.    Did  you? 

MAUD-ETHEL 

It  was  too  heavenly. 

NED 

Think  I've  improved? 

ETTA 

Not  so's  you  could  notice  it. 

NED 

I  take  lessons  twice  a  week  in  the  winter. 

ETTA 

And  practice  on  me  in  the  summer  ?    Thanks.     [Takes 
glass  from  Jim.] 

[29] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

NED 

I  always  expect  a  hand  on  my  shoulder  in  the  middle 
of  the  floor  and  a  voice  saying:  "Here!  Stop  that 
struggle !" 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Don't  be  discouraged,  Ned.  It  will  come  to  you  quite 
suddenly.  It  did  me.  I  was  an  awful  lemon  last  year. 
Remember?     Thanks.     [Takes  glass  from  him.~\ 

[Silence  as  they  all  drink  earnestly  with  glowing  sat- 
isfaction.'] 

JIM 

[Resting  a  moment  between  gulps.]  Give  me  a  Jazz- 
thirst!    Ha! 

NED 

Good  stuff. 

JIM 

Fine. 

ETTA 

Great. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Not  so  bad. 

NED 

How  much? 

JIM 

A  hundred  and  fifty. 

NED 

Good  enough.  Got  some  "five-star"  last  week.  Right 
off  the  boat! 

JIM 

[Holding  up  his  glass.]  This  is  the  stuff  to  drink  out 
of  doors.  I  think  the  country's  a  great  place.  A  bath 
in  the  cold,  salt  water — and  then  a  cocktail.     A  long 

[30] 


Act  I:    NORTHCHESTEli 

tramp  over  a  wind-blown  golf-course  and  what  a  joy  is 
a  "high-ball."  A  hot  set  of  tennis  and  a  cool  gin-and- 
seltzer.  Then  at  night  you  jazz  and  drink  and  drink 
and  jazz  and  sleep? — Why  ye  sleep  like  a  top.  Great 
place  the  country.  [Drinks.]  How  are  you  off  for 
gin,   Ned? 

NED 

Oh,  that's  easy.  I  make  my  own. 

ETTA 

Do  you? 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Thanks  for  timely  warning. 

NED 

Couldn't  tell  the  difference.  Come  in  on  your  way 
home  and  I'll  mix  you  the  nicest  little  home-brew  you've 
ever  tasted. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

No  amateur  stuff  for  me. 

NED 

Nix  on  the  "amateur  stuff."  You  couldn't  tell  it 
from  "Gordon."  Honest  you  couldn't.  After  a  swim 
the  other  morning  we  were  all  a  bit  chilly  so  into  the 
car,  up  to  the  Villa  and  out  with  the  old  shaker.  I  had 
three  before  lunch  and  felt  great.  Arthur  punished  five. 
He's  crazy  about  it.  He  got  the  prescription  from  me 
and  starts  making  it  tomorrow. 

CARLTON 

[To  Hale.]     Not  if  I  know  it. 

[31] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

JIM 

My  chauffeur  makes  the  finest  beer.  Really  fine.  .  .  . 
I  gave  him  the  house  to  himself  one  night  for  a  little 
party  and  next  morning  I  counted  twenty-eight  "emp- 
ties" by  the  cold,  grey  light.     Tzventy-eight! 

MAUD-ETHEL 

I  hate  beer.     Do  you  like  beer?     [To  Etta.] 

ETTA 

Not  when  I  can  get  this.     [Finishing  her  drink.] 

JIM 

He  keeps  us  all  in  beer.    A  week  ahead  always. 

NED 

Some  chauffeur. 

JIM 

He  drives  for  me  as  an  amusement,  I  think.  To  prove 
an  alibi.  I  bet  he  makes  enough  on  the  side  to  buy  a 
"Rolls-Royce."  When  I  see  a  "traveling"  look  in  his  eye 
I   raise   his   wages. 

ETTA 

Arthur  needs  a  chauffeur.     [They  all  laugh.] 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Next  time  Arthur's  "pinched"  they'll  put  him  in  jail. 

ETTA 

Where  can  they  be? 

JIM 

I  thought  they  were  following  us. 

[32] 


Act  I:    NORTHCHESTER 

NED 

They  said  they  were. 

ETTA 

Is  he  going  to  dance  with  Marian  all  the  afternoon? 

NED 

Guess  so. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Perhaps  she  wouldn't  let  him  join  us.     [Holding  up 
glass.]     This! 

JIM 

[Laughs.]     Not  a  chance. 

NED 

I  should  say  not. 

JIM 

Arthur's     a    natural-born,     free-for-all,     two-handed 
drinker. 

[Carlton  looks  at  Hale.     Hale  laughs.] 

NED 

Marian'd  have  a  fine  time  making  him  "dry." 

ETTA 

I  don't  know.     If  he  really  loves  her. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

He  loves  her  all  right.     Poor  Arthur. 

ETTA 

Might  be  the  best  thing  for  him.     He  needs  a  strong 
hand  on  his  drinking-arm. 

[Pantomimes  restraining  someone  from  drinking.] 

[33] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

JIM 

Arthur  would  as  soon  quit  breathing  as  drinking. 

ETTA 

Rather. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Oh,  I  don't  know.     He  might.     For  a  month  or  two. 
If  she'd  marry  him. 

ETTA 

He  had  a  proposing  look  in  his  eye  when  he  whirled 
past  us  just  now. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Perhaps  she's  lured  him  to  the  lemonade-porch. 

ETTA 

I  love  the  idea.    Sacred  and  profane  drinking-porches. 
I  wonder  if  he's  proposed  on  the  sacred  porch? 

MAUD-ETHEL 

And   she's   saying,   "Yes,   if   you'll   sip   through   two 
straws  for  the  rest  of  your  days." 
[All  laugh.'] 

ETTA 

Marian  doesn't  know  she's  alive.     Hasn't  had  a  drink 
in  her  life. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

She  hasn't  had  a  drink  but  you  mustn't  say  she  isn't 
alive. 

JIM 

No,  indeed.    Marian  seems  to  go  at  top  speed  without 
gasoline. 

[34] 


Act  I:    NORTHCHESTER 

ETTA 

Still  she'd  be  all  the  brighter  for  a  "spot"  now  and 
again. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

I'd  hate  to  see  her  take  it.  She's  so  full  of  pep  with- 
out it. 

CARLTON 

[Rising  and  crossing  to  club-house  steps.]  Let's  see 
if  they're  there. 

HALE 

Right  you  are.  We  may  be  in  at  the  death  of  a 
lemonade.     [Walking  with  him.~\ 

CARLTON 

Or  Arthur.     Those  his  pals? 

HALE 

Some  of  'em. 

CARLTON 

They  would  be. 

HALE 

No  harm  in  'em. 

CARLTON 

According  to  you  there's  no  harm  in  anything. 
[Glares  at  the  young  people.] 

HALE 

[Cheerily — smiling  at  them  as  they  look  up,  nudge 
each  other  and  indicate  the  two  parents.]  Hello !  En- 
joying yourselves? 

JIM 

Resting  between  rounds. 

[35] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

NED 

And  refreshing. 

JIM 

Join  us? 

NED 

Come  on,  Skipper. 

HALE 

Had  mine.    But  I'll  remember  it.    Ask  me  later. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Don't  forget  our  dance. 

ETTA 

And  ours. 

HALE 

[Heartily.]     I  won't.     I'll  be  around  to  claim  'em. 

ETTA 

Don't  forget. 

HALE 

Right  you  are. 

[Hale  and  Carlton  go  into  the  club-house.] 

ETTA 

He's  a  dear. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Sweet. 

ETTA 

Does  everything  Marian  does.     Refuses  her  nothing. 
He's  something  like  a  father. 

JIM 

Who's  his  friend? 

NED 

Didn't  think  much  of  him.     Did  you  see  the  parting 
look  ? 

[36] 


Act  I:    NORTHCHESTER 

ETTA 

Just  like  my  Dad.  Everything  I  do  is  wrong.  Poor 
old  dumb-bell. 

JIM 

Let  us  have  a  quick  one  before  the  next  dance. 
[Mixes  drink.]  I  had  the  shock  of  my  life  bringing  this 
down.  I  got  out  of  the  taxi  at  Grand  Central  station, 
see?  and  gave  the  grip  to  the  porter.  Just  as  we  got 
inside  I  saw  a  fellow  looking  at  the  bag  curiously  and 
following  the  porter.  I  made  up  my  mind  if  he  started 
to  examine  it  I'd  go  straight  through  the  gate,  deny  I 
owned  it  or  ever  saw  the  porter. 

ETTA 

How  thrilling.  What  happened?  [Taking  her  glass 
and  sipping  it.] 

JIM 

Well,  you  see  I  had  to  think  pretty  fast. 

NED 

Some  effort. 

JIM 

The  porter  went  through  and  the  fellow  followed. 
Just  nodded  to  the  man  at  the  gate.  Never  showed  a 
ticket  or  anything.     I  felt  "goose-fleshy"  all  over,  see? 

NED 

Sure. 

JIM 

A  dozen  at  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  rattling  in 
the  bag  and  the  sleuth  following,  see?  We  got  to  the 
train.     The  porter  stopped  to  ask  me  the  number  of  my 

[37] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

seat.  I  didn't  take  the  slightest  notice  of  him.  Just 
■walked  on  ahead.  Got  on  the  platform  of  the  car  and 
looked  back  as  though  waiting  for  someone.  Porter 
came  up,  "Leave  it  there,"  I  murmured,  without  looking 
at  him,  indicating  the  train-platform  outside  the  parlor- 
car.  Slipped  some  change  into  his  hand  just  in  time. 
Up  came  the  sleuth.  I  went  in  and  took  my  seat.  He 
followed.     Sat  just  across  from  me. 

NED 

The  dirty  dog. 

ETTA 

What  did  you  do? 

MAUD-ETHEL 

He's  making  it  up. 

JIM 

I  just  sat  and  sat.  Never  even  looked  at  him.  Just 
felt  he  was  there.  When  we  got  near  Northchester  I 
sauntered  out  on  the  platform. 

NED 

Sauntered !     Fine. 

ETTA 

Shut  up,  Ned. 

JIM 

I  stood  near  the  bag  without  moving  or  touching  it. 

NED 

A  trying  moment.     You've  got  me,  Jim. 

JIM 

When  the  train  stopped  I  got  down  on  the  platform. 

NED 

Without  the  "grip"!!!.'??? 

[38] 


JIM 


NED 


MAUD-ETHEL 


Act  I:    NORTHCHESTER 

JIM 

Of  course!     The  sleuth  had  followed  and  was  stand- 
ing in  the  doorway. 

ETTA 

I  can't  bear  it. 
There  I  stood. 
And  he  stood. 
They  both  stood. 

ETTA 

And  the  liquor  stood.     It's  too  thrilling ! 

JIM 

The  signal  was  given.     The  train  began  to  move.     I 
jumped  on  the  platform,  grabbed  the  grip 

NED 

He  grabbed  the  grip. 

JIM 

Jumped    off    and    stood    panting,    the    precious    bag 
grasped  firmly  in  my  fingers. 

NED 

And  the  sleuth  ? 

JIM 

Walked  back  into  the  car  as  the  train  disappeared. 

ETTA 

[Exhausted.]     What  nerve. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Heroic. 


[39] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

NED 

Nerve?  I  should  say  so.  To  ever  tell  it.  Say,  give 
the  end  at  the  beginning,  if  you  ever  have  the  cheek  to 
repeat  it. 

JIM 

Well,  you  knew  the  end.     Ain't  you  drinking  it? 

[The  band  starts  again.  They  all  jump  up  and  amid 
much  scratching  of  chairs,  powdering  of  faces,  and 
laughing  chatter  they  go  to  the  club-house  steps. 
Arthur  and  Marian  appear  from  the  club-house.] 

[Marian  Hale  is  a  buoyant,  breezy,  fascinating, 
spoilt  young  lady  without  a  care  for  today  or  a 
thought  of  the  morrow.  Born  to  delight  others  she 
finds  supreme  pleasure  in  doing  it.  Withal  there  is 
a  look  in  her  frank,  steady  eyes  that  suggests  depths 
that  have  not,  so  far,  been  sounded.] 

[Arthur  Carlton,  slim,  tense,  athletic,  carries  his 
twenty-four  years  with  an  air.  lie  has  great  per- 
sonal magnetism  and  charm.  Happy,  fearless, 
quixotic  to  a  fault.  While  the  merry,  laughing  eyes 
attract  the  unthinking  to  the  more  exacting  judge  of 
character  the  lower  part  of  the  face  is  sadly  disap- 
pointing. It  betrays  irresolution,  over-indulgence 
and  considerable  latent  brutality.  Self-willed,  un- 
controllable, potentially  supremely  selfish.  The  bal- 
ance-wheel of  discipline  is  noticeably  wanting.] 

[No  two  people  could  be  more  opposite  than  Arthur 
and  Marian.  In  that  lies  the  impelling  attraction 
each  has  for  the  other.] 

[40] 


Act  I :    NORTHCHESTER 

ETTA 

Why,  Marian,  where  have  you  been? 

JIM 

I've  some  left.     [Holding  up  flask  to  Arthur.] 

ARTHUR 

Thanks.     I've  just  had  some  tea. 

[Laughs.     The  two  young  men   both  laugh.     Nudge 
Arthur,  indicating  Marian.] 

NED 

May  I  have  this  dance? 

MARIAN 

No,  Ned. 

NED 

All  right.     Keep  me  one. 

ETTA 

Hold  our  table  down. 

JIM 

Order  a  gallon  of  "White  Rock." 

NED 

We'll  have  a  million-dollar  thirst  after  this  dance. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Oh,  you  spoonies ! 

[They  all  go  into  the  club-house  laughing  and  chat- 
ting.] 

ARTHUR 

You  don't  want  to  dance? 

[41] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

MARIAN 

No.     Unless  you  do? 

ARTHUR 

I  don't.  ...   Do  sit  down. 

MARIAN 

In  sound  of  the  music?      [Jazzing  to  music.'] 

ARTHUR 

Yes. 

MARIAN 

Right. 
[Sits.] 
There. 

ARTHUR 

It's  very  good  of  you.     [Looks  affectionately  at  her.] 

MARIAN 

What  is? 

ARTHUR 

Letting  me  see  so  much  of  you. 

MARIAN 

I  like  seeing  you. 

ARTHUR 

Do  you? 

MARIAN 

Yes. 

ARTHUR 

Really? 

MARIAN 

If  I  didn't,  you  can  be  sure  of  one  thing — I  wouldn't. 

ARTHUR 

No;  I  sunpose  not. 

[42] 


Act  I:    NORTHCHESTER 

MARIAN 

Oh,  you  may  be  sure  of  it. 

ARTHUR 

I  felt  rather  guilty — as  though  I  were  poaching — at 
first. 

MARIAN 

Why? 

ARTHUR 

I  thought  you  liked  Tom  Carrol — at  first. 


MARIAN 

I  did. 

ARTHUR 

I  thought  so. 

MARIAN 

And  I  do. 

ARTHUR 

Oh?     Do  you? 

MARIAN 

And  I  always  will.  .  .  .  But  I  like  you  better. 

ARTHUR 

Isn't    that    fine.  ...   I    hoped    you    did.   .  .   .  Much 


better  ? 

Quite  a  good  deal. 


MARIAN 


ARTHUR 

Enough  to  some  day — marry  me? 

MARIAN 

Almost  enough  for  that — some  day. 

ARTHUR 

Oh,  Marian. 

[43] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

MARIAN 

Almost! 

ARTHUR 

[Discouraged.]     But  not  quite? 

MARIAN 

I  might — quite — if 

ARTHUR 

If  what?     [Eagerly;  despondently.] 

MARIAN 

By-and-bye. 

ARTHUR 

No.     Tell  me  now. 

MARIAN 

Not  just  now,  Arthur. 

ARTHUR 

All  right.  ...  I  hate  "If's".  .  .  .  You  will  tell  me? 

MARIAN 

--— -^QJl^es.     I'll  tell  you. 

ARTHUR 

Fancy  you  liking  me  as  much  as  that!  .  .  .  Why? 

MARIAN 

[Looking  shyly  at  him.]     You're  such  good  fun.     It's 
jolly  being  with  you. 

ARTHUR 

[His  eyes  dancing.]     Is  it? 

MARIAN 

Jolly. 

[44] 


Act  I:    NORTHCHESTER 

ARTHUR 

That's  the  way  I  feel  about  you.     I  feel  I  want  to 
have  you  around  always.  .    .    .  Feel  that  way  about  me  ? 


Yes. 

All  the  time  ? 


MARIAN 
ARTHUR 


MARIAN 

Most  of  the  time.  You're  a  wonderful  partner  at 
tennis.  You  dance  better  than  anyone  I  know  and  sit  a 
horse  like  a  soldier.  .  .  .  And  you're  nice  to  Dad. 

ARTHUR 

I'm  crazy  about  him. 

MARIAN 

You're  always  light-hearted  and  irresponsible.  Will- 
ing to  get  down  on  all-fours  and  play  games  with  any- 
one.    You're  a  perfect  companion,  Arthur. 

ARTHUR 

You  don't  know  how  conceited  you  make  me. 

MARIAN 

That's  another  thing  I  like  you  for. 

ARTHUR 

Conceit  ? 

MARIAN 

Because  you're  not. 

ARTHUR 

I  never  had  any  cause  to  be,  until  now.  But  if  I  were 
to  say  "Marian,  will  you  be  my  wife?"  and  you  said 
"Yes,  Arthur,  I  will"  I'd  feel  ten  feet  taller  and  a  heap 
bigger. 

[45] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

MARIAN 

Say  it. 

ARTHUR 

Marian,  will  you  be  my  wife? 

MARIAN 

Yes,  Arthur,  I  will. 

ARTHUR 

[Rising  to  his  toes  and  expanding  his  chest.]  Oh!  I 
feel  great!     If  we  weren't  out  here  I'd  embrace  you. 

[Arthur  makes  a  movement  to  embrace  her  when  the 
Waiter  enters,  crosses  over  to  table,  clears  away 
glasses  Carlton  and  Hale  used,  and  carries  them 
into  club-house.  Arthur  whips  out  a  flask  from 
his  hip-pocket,  picks  up  one  of  the  clean  glasses, 
pours  some  liquor  into  it  and  mineral-xvater,  holds 
up  the  glass.] 

ARTHUR 

To  the  union  of  Arthur  and  Marian.  May  they  be  as 
jolly  companions  married  as  they  are  single.     [Drinks.] 

MARIAN 

Now  I'm  going  to  tell  you  the  "If."  [He  pauses, 
lowers  the  glass  and  looks  at  her.]  You  must  make  me 
one  promise.  Only  one.  [Points  to  glass.]  That.  .  .  . 
It  won't  do,  Arthur. 

ARTHUR 

I'll  stop  it  altogether,  if  you  say  so.  Say,  "Arthur, 
I  want  you  never  to  drink  again"  and  I'll  say  "Marian ! 
I'll  throw  this  glass  away  and  never,  never,  never  drink 
any  more.     So  help  me!"     Say  it!  .  .  .  Come! 

[46] 


Act  I:    NORTHCHESTER 

MARIAN 

I  don't  want  you  to  make  any  .such  promise.  To  be 
either  a  hard-drinker  or  a  total-abstainer  shows  lack  of 
character.  To  take  it  occasionally  is  perfectly  all  right. 
Perfectly.  It  makes  you  happy,  jolly,  agreeable.  But 
when  you  take  more  than  }rou  should  you  seem  to  be  a 
different  Arthur  from  the  one  I  love.  .  .  .  And  you've 
been  doing  it  pretty  often  of  late. 

ARTHUR 

I  know.  .  .  .  You're  quite  right.  .  .  .  Disgusting  of 
me.  .  .  .  That's  the  last.  [Throws  remainder  of  liquor 
out  of  glass.]     Until  we're  married. 

MARIAN 

Oh  !     Then  you'll  really  begin  ? 

ARTHUR 

No.  No.  Of  course  not.  .  .  .  Just  at  the  wedding? 
Eh? 

MARIAN 

I  don't  want  you  to  stop.  Take  it  as  my  father  does. 
He  enjoys  it  but  never  takes  so  much  that  he  makes 
himself  a  nuisance. 

ARTHUR 

And  /  have  ? 

MARIAN 

Yes.  You  have.  And  it's  hurt  me  and  made  me 
ashamed.  The  other  night  at  that  Inn  I  felt  I  never 
wanted  to  go  out  with  you  again.  I  was  miserable.  .  .  . 
But  in  the  morning  I  forgave  you.  You  ivere  plucky 
and   the  only   one   who   defended   me.   .   .   .   But   it   was 

[47] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

brutal  the  way  you  attacked  that  man.  It  wasn't  you. 
It  was  some  terrible,  murderous  potentiality  in  you. 
[Shivers.]     It  wasn't  you. 

ARTHUR 

[Gloomily.']      I  know.     I   -was   VERY [Breaks 

off-] 

MARIAN 

Why  can't  you  take  a  little  and  stop? 

ARTHUR 

I  don't  know.  I  began  too  young,  I  suppose.  We  all 
drank  at  college.  [Laughs  boyishly.]  The  great  game 
was  to  take  enough  to  make  your  head  go  round  one  way, 
then  go  to  an  amusement  park  and  get  on  a  merry-go- 
round  going  the  other.  Straighten  it  out.  It  seemed 
the  manly  thing  to  do.  And  no  one  interfered.  They 
seemed  to  expect  it  of  us.  Until  they  wrote  home  to 
take  me  away. 

MARIAN 

Didn't  your  father  interfere? 

ARTHUR 

[Disdainfully.']  Father!  He'd  like  me  to  drink  my- 
self to  death.     Then  he'd  be  rid  of  me. 

MARIAN 

[Shocked.]     Arthur! 

ARTHUR 

It's  so.     He  despises  me.    Always  has. 

MARIAN 

Why? 

[48] 


Act  I:    NORTHCHESTER 

ARTHUR 

I  didn't  come  up  to  his  expectations. 

MARIAN 

That's  no  reason  for  despising  you. 

ARTHUR 

Well,  I  do  him.  So  it's  a  stand-off.  He  thinks  only 
of  his  business.  Never  known  him  to  enjoy  himself  like 
your  father  does.  When  I  didn't  string  along  and  be 
enthusiastic  about  adding  up  figures  in  the  office  and 
refused  to  learn  how  to  handle  basic  pig-iron  he  just 
dropped  me.  Cut  me  out.  Why,  there  have  been  times 
at  home  when  he  hasn't  spoken  a  dozen  words  to  me  in 
a  month.  And  they  were  so  bitter  they  sizzled  on  his 
tongue. 

MARIAN 

Didn't  he  bring  you  up  to  do  anything? 

ARTHUR 

Xo.  When  I  showed  no  interest  in  "basic-pig"  he  lost 
all  interest  in  me. 

MARIAN 

And  you  didn't  make  yourself  interested  in  anything  ? 

ARTHUR 

Not  much.  You  see,  Marian,  I  haven't  any  brain 
really. 

MARIAN 

You've  just  amused  yourself  and  been  contented  with 
that  ? 

[49] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

ARTHUR 

[Sullenly.]  I  guess  that  about  lets  me  out.  What 
can  I  do?  I  hate  Law.  Medicine  makes  me  sick. 
Politics  too  messy.  I'd  hate  being  inquired  into.  And 
business  is  just  an  unnecessary  drudge.  What's  there  to 
do?  America's  too  small  for  a  young  man.  I  want  to 
travel.  See  other  countries.  We're  too  cramped  here. 
Our  lives  are  so  little.  So — nothing.  .  .  .  [Suddenly.] 
Let  us  marry  and  go  all  over  the  world. 

MARIAN 

Can  we? 

ARTHUR 

Your  father  wouldn't  mind. 

MARIAN 

Would  yours? 

ARTHUR 

I  wouldn't  ask  him.  I'd  just  go.  I  can  get  all  I 
wnnt  from  my  mother  and  I  have  a  bit  of  my  own  from 
a  grandmother.     Come  on.     Let's. 

MARIAN 

It  would  be  exciting. 

ARTHUR 

There's  an  awful  lot  to  see.  We  could  stay  away 
years. 

MARIAN 

Oh,  no.     Not  years. 

ARTHUR 

Well — a  year.  One  year.  Get  away  from  all  this 
half-living.  Getting  arrested  is  an  event!  .  .  .  Punch- 
ing a  sucker's  head  the  last  word  in  excitement.     We  are 

[50] 


Act  I:    NORTHCHESTER 

a  cheap,  provincial  lot.  .  .  .  Let's  go  away  to  the  older 
countries  and  learn  how  to  live. 

MARIAN 

I'll  talk  it  over  at  home. 

ARTHUR 

[Urgently.]      They'll  let  you  do  anything  you  want. 

MARIAN 

Still  it's  nice  to  talk  it  over  at  home  just  the  same. 

ARTHUR 

I  may  find  something  big  I  can  do.     Very  big. 

MARIAN 

[Smiling.]       Enormous!       [Moves    body,    head    and 
fingers  to  the  jazz-music] 

ARTHUR 

How  small  we  must  seem  to  other  countries ! 

MARIAN 

I  wonder  if  we  do? 

ARTHUR 

Look  at   all  the  men   like  my   father.      Grubbing  all 
their  lives.     Grinding.     Piling  up  money. 

MARIAN 

You  have  the  fun  of  spending  it. 

ARTHUR 

We  can  do  all  kinds  of  things,  you  and  I.     Become 
real  powers.     You  can  buy  anything  with  money  abroad. 

[51] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

MARIAN 

But  we'll  come  back? 

ARTHUR 

Oh,  I  suppose  so.  Some  time.  If  we  can  stand  it 
and  you  really  wanted  to. 

MARIAN 

I  would  want  to.  You  see — I  like  our  country.  And 
I  think  it  very  vast.  I  don't  know  how  we  seem  to  for- 
eigners, but  I  can't  help  feeling  they  don't  think  us  so 
very  insignificant;  that  they're  a  little  bit  afraid  of  us 
and  they  like  us  on  their  side  in  time  of  trouble.  ...  I 
think  the  farther  you  get  away  from  the  United  States 
the  more  you'll  realize  how  really  big  we  are. 

ARTHUR 

Oh,  yes.    Acres  of  dirt.     I  mean  the  people. 

MARIAN 

So  do  I.  This  doesn't  represent  America,  Arthur. 
You  don't  know  your  own  country.  J  don't.  But  I  want 
to  know  it.    See  it.     Feel  its  power.     Because — I  love  it. 

ARTHUR 

Oh,  as  to  that,  we  all  do.  But  you  can't  close  your 
eyes  to  our  provincialism. 

MARIAN 

Then  let's  open  our  minds  to  all  that  isn't  provincial. 
It's  the  only  country  I  know.  The  only  country  I'm 
fond  of.  I  want  to  know  it  fully,  completely.  ...  It 
would  be  fun  seeing  the  others  first.  "Who  knows 
America  that  only  America  knows?" 

[52] 


Act  I:    NORTHCHESTER 

ARTHUR 

We'll  begin  with  Paris. 

MARIAN 

You  are  provincial.  [Laughs.]  Just  the  same  sort  of 
thing  all  over  again.  Games,  jazz,  drinking — not  with 
French  people  either,  Arthur,  but  with  our  own  kind. 
[Reproachfully.]     Arthur!     [Laughs.] 

ARTHUR 

Well,  anywhere  you  like.  I'll  give  you  a  map  of  the 
world  and  you  stick  in  little  flags  wherever  you  want 
to  go. 

MARIAN 

That  would  be  wonderful.  [Seeing  that  he  is  dejected 
about  Paris.]     We  might  begin  with  Paris. 

ARTHUR 

[Brightening;  trying  not  to  be  too  enthusiastic]  Just 
as  you  like. 

MARIAN 

And  then  all  through  France  among  the  peasants. 

ARTHUR 

[Dejected  again.]  Anywhere!  Anywhere  at  all!  So 
long  as  you  are  with  me.  It's  wonderful  of  you  to  prom- 
ise to  marry  me.  ...  I  love  you,  Marian. 

MARIAN 

And  I  love  you,  Arthur. 

ARTHUR 

I'll  do  everything  I  can  to  make  a  "GO"  of  it. 

[53] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

MARIAN 

So  will  I. 

ARTHUR 

And  as  to  this [Touching  glass.]     I  promise  you, 

across  my  heart,  nothing  until  after  we're  married.     An 
after  that  just  what  you  think  is  right. 

[Tom  Carrol,  a  young,  handsome,  determined-looking 
man  of  twenty-eight,  comes  out  from  the  club- 
house. He  is  in  a  traveling-suit  and  just  off  the 
train.  Marian  greets  him  warmly  although  she  is 
a.  little  embarrassed.  Arthur  rather  shyly  and 
distantly.] 

MARIAN 

[Sh-aking  his  hand.]      We  thought  you'd  forgotten  us. 

ARTHUR 

Hello,  Tom.     [Shakes  his  hand  then  looks  axoay.] 

TOM 

I've  been  tied  up  in  town.  Weeks  of  it.  In  all  the 
heat.  I'm  only  down  now  for  the  week-end.  But  I've 
got  what  I've  been  trying  for  so  long.  I've  convinced 
them  at  last  I'm  indispensable.  .  .  .  Marian !  They've 
taken  me  into  the  firm.  Isn't  that  fine,  Arthur?  I'm  to 
be  their  representative  abroad. 

ARTHUR 

Abroad? 

MARIAN 

I'm  so  glad. 

TOM 

I  start  in  a  few  weeks.     London,  Paris,  Rome,  Ma- 

[54  | 


Act  I:    NORTHCHESTEll 

drid,  Egypt,  India.     All  the  places  I've  always  wanted 
to  go  to.     Isn't  it  lucj.y? 

MARIAN 

Very. 

ARTHUR 

I  should  say  so. 

TOM 

So  I [Turning  to  Arthur.]     Do  you  mind  if  I 

have  a  few  moments  alone  with  Marian?  ...  Or  am  I 
interrupting? 

ARTHUR 

[Half -angrily.]     Well,  as  a  matter  of  fact 

MARIAN 

Not     at     all,     Tom.        [Arthur     looks     savagely     at 
Marian.]     Of  course  we  were  going  in  to  dance. 

TOM 

There'll  be  many  more.     Let  me  have  just  this  one. 
Here.     Will  you? 

MARIAN 

Why  of  course.     But 

TOM 

Please  do. 

ARTHUR 

[Angrily.]      Wouldn't  another  time ? 

TOM 

Just  a  few  minutes.     If  you  don't  mind  very  much. 

ARTHUR 

[Looks  again  at  Marian  who  makes  signs  for  him  to 

[55] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

go.]     Oh!     All  right.     I'll  be  just  inside.     Mind — only 
a  few  minutes. 

TOM 

That's  all.      I'll  call  you. 

[Arthur  glares  savagely  at  Tom's  innocent  back  and 
goes  into  the  club-house.] 

TOM 

It  is  nice  seeing  you  again.  Like  this.  I've, missed 
you  so  much  this  summer.  So  much.  But  it's  been 
worth  it.  Because  it's  made  it  possible  for  me  to  do 
something  that  was  out  of  the  question  last  year.  .  .  . 
[Hesitates.]  I'm  not  very  good  at  saying  things — when 
I  feel  a  great  deal.  .  .  .   I  do  now.     Can  you  guess  ? 

MARIAN 

[In  distress.]     Oh,  Tom!     Tom! 

TOM 

This  turn  of  luck  has  changed  everything  for  me. 
Everything.  I  don't  have  to  struggle  any  more.  Things 
have  been  made  easy.  And  so — Marian — at  last  I  can 
— I  want  you  to 

MARIAN 

Don't,  Tom.     Don't. 

TOM 

Why? 

MARIAN 

I  have  just  promised  Arthur  I'll  marry  him. 

TOM 

[Aghast,  sits  back  in  chair.]     Arthur! 

[56] 


Act  I:    NORTHCHESTElt 

MARIAN 

Yes. 

TOM 

[Under  his  breath.]  My  God!  [He  goes  perfectly 
limp.]     Arthur!     God! 

MARIAN 

Don't  take  it  like  that,  Tom.  * 

TOM 

I  never  thought.  ...  It  seemed — you  cared  for  me 
— a  few  months  ago. 

MARIAN 

I  did.  Very,  very  much.  I  do  now.  I  always  will 
care  for  you,  Tom.  But  not  in  the  same  way  I  care  for 
Arthur.  He  seems  to  need  me.  You  are  so  self-con- 
tained. Your  life  is  in  your  hands.  You  know  what 
to  do  with  it.  Arthur — seems  to  need  me.  ...  I  am  so 
sorry  for  you,  Tom. 

TOM 

If  I'd  asked  you  six  months  ago — would  you  have ? 

MARIAN 

Yes — I  would. 

TOM 

What  a  fool!  What  a  hesitating,  doubting  fool  I've 
been ! 

MARIAN 

You  mustn't  feel  that  way,  Tom.  Now  that  I  know 
how  much  I  love  Arthur  I  know  what  I  felt  for  you  was 
not  quite  the  same.  .  .  .  Not  the  same  kind  of  love.  .  .  . 
And  it  would  have  been  dreadful  for  us  both  if  I  found 
out  afterward  I  loved  him  more  than  I  did  you. 
Wouldn't  it? 

[57] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

TOM 

[Clenching   his    hands    and    beating    them    together.] 
What  a  fool!   .   .   .   Arthur! 

MARIAN 

You  see  we  like  the  same  things.  Games,  dancing, 
amusing  people  around  us.  Jokes  about  everything. 
Care  free.     Irresponsible. 

TOM 

But  ice  liked  fun  together,  games,  dancing.  The  same 
things,  Marian. 

MARIAN 

[In  distress.]  I  know.  I'm  just  trying  to  excuse 
myself.  Oh,  I'm  so  sorry  you  ever  liked  me.  That  I 
let  you  like  me.  .  .  .  And  I  did.  I  know  I  did.  It 
makes  me  feel  so  cruel.  .  .  .  But  we  can't  help  being 
cruel  when  we  love,  can  we,  Tom? 

TOM 

No,  I  suppose  we  can't.  Love  seems  to  have  no  code. 
We  just  love  and  that's  all  there  is  to  it.  And  I'll 
always  love  you.  Always.  I  feel  rather  stunned.  I 
came  here  so  full  of  my  news.  Able  at  last  to  ask  you. 
I  thought  you  mightn't  accept  me — just  at  first.  But 
I'd  have  waited — I'd  have  waited.  .  .  .  Now  all  that's 
gone.   .   .   .  Arthur! 

MARIAN 

[Starts  at  his  contemptuous  tone,  looks  curiously  at 
him.]     Don't  you  like  him? 

TOM 

You're  going  to  marry   him.     Tbat's  enough.      What 

does  it  matter  whether  I ?     Shall  I  call  him  back? 

[58] 


Act  I:    NORTHCHESTER 

MARIAN 

Do  let  us  be  pals  as  we  used  to  be.  .  .  .  You'll  hurt 
me  if  you  don't.  .  .  .  Because  I  like  you,  Tom,  very, 
very  much.  .  .  .  Let's  be  pals.  .  .  .  Will  you? 

TOM 

All  right,  Marian. 

MARIAN 

And  don't  think  too  badly  of  Arthur.  .  .  .  He's  really 
splendid.  .  .  .  And  he  loves  me.  .  .  .  Don't  think  badly 
of  him.     Will  you? 

TOM 

I  won't,  Marian. 

ARTHUR 

[Hurries  down  the  steps  and  goes  to  them.]  My 
father's  here. 

MARIAN 

Oh? 

ARTHUR 

He  saw  me.  He's  with  your  father.  They're  coming 
here. 

MARIAN 

I'm  so  glad.  Arthur — I've  told  Tom.  .  .  .  And  he 
congratulates  us  both.     Don't  you? 

TOM 

Yes.     Of  course. 

ARTHUR 

Thanks,  Tom. 

TOM 

I  hope  you'll  both  be 

[Carlton  followed  by  Hale  comes  quickly  down  the 

steps.     Tom  takes  advantage  of  the  interruption  to 

go  into  the  club-housed] 

[59] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

CARLTON 

[To  Arthur.]     I've  been  looking  for  you  everywhere. 

ARTHUR 

You  can't  have  looked  very  hard. 

MARIAN 

How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Carlton. 

CARLTON 

[Shaking  hands  very  quickly  with  her.']     How  do  yon 
do,  Miss  Hale. 

HALE 

Dance  this  with  your  father? 

MARIAN 

I  want  to  talk  to  Mr.  Carlton. 

CARLTON 

He  wants  to  talk  to  Arthur.     Come  on.     Don't  be 
ashamed  of  me. 

MARIAN 

Ashamed?    Why,  you're  the  best  dancer  in  the  room. 

HALE 

Ha!     [Laughs.] 

MARIAN 

For  your  age  and  weight. 

HALE 

Don't  qualify  it!     Don't  qualify  it!     I'm  as  young  as 

the  next  man  and    [spanning  his  waist]   a  perfect 

[60] 


Act  I:    XORTHCHESTER 

MARIAN 

Forty-six. — I'm  going  to  jazz  with  this  young  man, 
Arthur,  and  then  I  want  to  talk  with  your  father.  Come 
on.  [They  jazz  together  totcard  the  club-house,  indicat- 
ing Hale's  stomach.]  It's  like  dancing  with  someone 
who's  in  Europe. 

HALE 

Here,  Marian!  [They  sing  snatch  of  "Daddy"  as 
they  disappear,  dancing  into  the  club-house.} 

CARLTON 

[Looking  grimly  at  his  son.]     Well? 

ARTHUR 

[Sullenly.]     Well? 

CARLTON 

You  don't  seem  very  glad  to  see  me. 

ARTHUR 

I'm  not. 

CARLTON 

No.     You're  not. 

ARTHUR 

I  never  am,  if  it  comes  to  that. 

CARLTON 

I  guess  that's   about  what  it  comes  to.  .  .  .  You've 
been  making  a  fine  exhibition  of  yourself. 

ARTHUR 

Have  I? 

CARLTON 

What  do  you  call  it? 

ARTHUR 

I  don't  call  it  anything.     I  leave  that  to  you — •! 

[61] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

CARLTON 

Well,  I  call  it  pretty  damn  disgraceful.     Fined  twice. 
Driving  around  drunk. 

ARTHUR 

[Hotly. ]     I  wasn't. 

CARLTON 

Thrown  out  of  a  dancing-dive — drunk! 

ARTHUR 

That's  a  lie. 

CARLTON 

Here.  Cut  that  out. 

ARTHUR 

I  wasn't  drunk  any  of  those  times. 

CARLTON 

You  must  have  been  damn  near  it  then. 

ARTHUR 

Who  told  you? 

CARLTON 

Your  mother. 

ARTHUR 

Who  told  her? 

CARLTON 

Some  of  your  club   friends.  .  .  .  You  know  they're 
about  "fed-up"  with  you. 

ARTHUR 

Who  are  "fed-up"  with  me? 

CARLTON 

The  decent  people  around  here. 

ARTHUR 

They  haven't  told  me  so. 

[62] 


Act  I:    NORTHCHESTER 

CARLTON 

They  shouldn't  need  to.  .  .  .  You  shouldn't  have  to 
be  thrown  out  everywhere.  College.  Road-house.  Now 
a  club. 

ARTHUR 

I  don't  believe  it. 

CARLTON 

See  here,  you've  said  that  once  before.  Say  it  again 
and  I'll  twist  yer  neck,  ye  young  hound.  .  .  .  I  tell  you 
it  is  so!  ...  I  don't  care  what  they  do  to  you.  Your 
mother  does.  More  fool  she.  .  .  .  She  wants  you  home. 
And  I've  come  to  fetch  you. 

ARTHUR 

[Aghast.]     Home! 

CARLTON 

[Takes  out  watch.]  There's  a  train  in — let  me  see — 
5.15 — [Fingers  on  dial  tracing  figures]  in  fifty  minutes. 
So  you  have  time  for  a  jazz,  a  few  more  drinks,  then 
change  into  something  you  can  travel  in.  .  .  .  I'll  wait 
here. 

ARTHUR 

I  can't  go. 

CARLTON 

Oh,  yes,  you  can.     And  what's  more — you're  going. 

ARTHUR 

[Distractedly.]  I  tell  you  I  can't.  .  .  .  Not  now  .  .  . 
I'll  come  later.  .  .  .  Next  week — for  a  day  or  two — I 
can't  now. 

CARLTON 

I'm  not  used  to  telling  people  to  do  the  same  thing 
twice.     And  I'm  not  going  to  begin  with  you. 

[63] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

ARTHUR 

I  tell  you  I  can't — and  what's  more  I  won't. 

CARLTON 

Do  you  want  me  to  make  an  example  of  you  before 
your  club  friends?  Because  that's  what  I'm  going  to  do 
if  you're  not  very  careful.  I'll  drag  you  by  the  collar 
every  foot  of  the  way  to  the  depot,  starting  from  this 
lawn. 

ARTHUR 

[Almost  crying  with  disappointment  and  rage.]  I 
can't  go  away  now. 

CARLTON 

You're  going  home  and  you're  not  coming  back  here 
again.      You've    disgraced    us    enough.   .   .  .   Don't    you 

look  at  me  like  that — why  I [Suddenly  takes  him 

by  the  wrist  and  turns  it.] 

ARTHUR 

[Screaming  with  pain.]  Don't.  By  God  I'll  kill  you. 
Don't.  [Struggles  fiercely — sinks  down  on  one  knee.] 
Oh!  .  .  .  Don't! 

[Carlton  suddenly  releases  him,  throws  him  away 
from  him.  Arthur  springs  up  on  the  defensive 
wringing  his  injured  wrist.] 

CARLTON 

[Sneering  and  smiling  malignantly.]  Golf  and  ten- 
nis-muscles, eh?  Pap!  That's  what  they  are.  Pap. 
Mine  were  moulded  in  a  foundry.  As  a  laborer.  .  .  . 
Don't  forget  that  when  you're  dashing  around  in  a  ten- 

[64  | 


Act  I:    XORTHCHESTER 

thousand-dollar   car — drunk.      You're  the  son   of   a   la- 
borer.    Keep  it  in  mind.     You  loafer! 

[The  music  has  stopped.  Chatter  of  voices  is  heard 
and  figures  can  be  seen  moving  near  the  club-house 

windows.] 

ARTHUR 

[Excitedly ;  eagerly;  chattering  with  wounded 
vanity.']  Don't  say  anything  before  them.  I'll  change. 
[Indicating  his  clothes.] 

CARLTON 

If  you're  not  back  here  in  twenty  minutes  I'll  fetch 
you. 

ARTHUR 

All  right.     I'll— I'll 

[Runs  full  tilt  into  the  side  entrance  to  the  club-house. 
Hale  and  Marian  come  through  the  center  win- 
dows. They  are  both  laughing  happily.  She  is  on 
his  arm.  As  they  come  down  the  steps  they  see 
Carlton.  Hale  instantly  takes  Marian  in  his 
arms  and  they  jazz  over  to  the  angry  and  disgusted 
parent] 

MARIAN 

[Disengaging  herself,  breathlessly.]  Where's  Ar- 
thur ? 


Gone  in  to  change. 
Change  what? 
Only  his  clothes. 


CARLTON 

MARIAN 

CARLTON 


[65] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

MARIAN 

Why? 

CARLTON 

We're  going  in  by  the  5.15. 

MARIAN 

In? 

CARLTON 

Home.     Bar  Harbor. 

MARIAN 

Oh! 

CARLTON 

His  mother  wants  him. 

MARIAN 

Is  she  ill? 

CARLTON 

AVorrying. 

Marian 

What  a  shame.     [To  her  father.]     Isn't  it? 

HALE 

Tell  him  your  news.     Go  on.      [To  Carlton.]     Got 
£  little  surprise  for  you,  unless  Arthur's  told  you  already. 

MARIAN 

Has  he? 

CARLTON 

What? 

MARIAN 

About  our  engagement? 

CARLTON 

No.     He  didn't  tell  me. 

MARIAN 

Well,  we  are  engaged. 

[66] 


Act  I:    NORTHCHESTER 

CARLTON 

That  so?     [Grimly.]     Since  when? 

MARIAN 

[Looking  at  her  wrist  watch.]     Since  eighteen  minutes 
and  twenty-three  seconds. 

HALE 

[Laughing  loudly  as  he  watches  Carlton's  face.]     I 
warned  you. 

CARLTON 

He  didn't  say  a  word  about  it. 

HALE 

Perhaps  you  didn't  give  him  a  chance. 

CARLTON 

Now  I  come  to  think  about  it  I  didn't.     [To  Hale.] 
Well?     What  have  you  to  say  about  it? 

HALE 

Me?      Tickled    to    death.       [Laughing    again.]      You 
know  what  I  think  about  Arthur. 

CARLTON 

I  don't  fancy  your  daughter  knows  what  7  think  about 
him.     [To  Marian.]     Do  you? 

MARIAN 

No.    What  do  you? 

CARLTON 

If  you  were  my  daughter  I'd  rather  see  you  marry 
the  man  who  sweeps  up  the  tennis-court  than  Arthur. 

MARIAN 

But  I'm  not  your  daughter,  Mr.  Carlton,  and  I  love 
Arthur  and  I'm  going  to  marry  him. 

[67] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

CARLTON 

Well,  you've  got  courage  anyway.  And  you  seem  to 
know  your  own  mind  too. 

MARIAN 

I  do. 

CARLTON 

You'll  need  both  when  you  get  Arthur  on  your  hands. 
I've  had  him  for  twenty-four  years.     So  I  know. 

MARIAN 

It  seems  to  have  sat  pretty  lightly  on  you — for  twenty- 
four  years. 

CARLTON 

Oh,  no,  it  hasn't.  You  don't  suppose  I  take  any  pride 
in  a  son  like  Arthur? 

MARIAN 

It  might  have  been  better  for  you  both  if  you  had, 
Mr.  Carlton. 

CARLTON 

See  here,  my  girl.  I  like  you  too  well  to  see  you 
throw  yourself  away  on  my  drunken  good-for-nothing. 
Don't  do  it. 

MARIAN 

After  all,  Mr.  Carlton,  if  he  is,  which  I  don't  admit, 
a  good-for-nothing,  whose  fault  is  it?  You've  had  the 
shaping  and  making  of  him  for  twenty-four  years.  You 
may  be  a  splendid  man  of  affairs.  You  must  be.  But 
you  might  have  given  some  of  the  intelligence  you've 
used  in  building  up  your  business  to  building  up  your 
son's  character. 

[68] 


Act  I:    NORTHCHESTER 

CARLTON 

He  hasn't  any  to  build. 

MARIAN 

Well,  I  differ  about  that.  ...  If,  after  we  marry, 
you  can  still  call  him  a  drunken-good-for-nothing  blame 
it  on  me.  Up  to  now,  whatever  your  son's  weaknesses 
may  be,  the  blame  is  mostly  yours. 

CARLTON 

All  right.     Mine  if  you  like. 

MARIAN 

You  know  responsibility  doesn't  end  with  paying 
one's  son's  way  through  school,  college  and  afterwards. 
That  makes  for  good-for-nothings.  If  you  let  a  boy  see 
you  have  no  pride  or  faith  in  him,  then  sooner  or  later 
he'll  justify  your  tcant  of  faith.  You're  going  to  change 
your  opinion  of  Arthur,  Mr.  Carlton. 

CARLTON 

That  sounds  fine.  Fine.  .  .  .  Now  I  want  to  tell  you 
what  you're  up  against  so  that  you  go  into  the  bargain 
with  your  eyes  open. 

MARIAN 

You  don't  have  to  tell  me  he  was  sent  down  from 
college  for  drunkenness.  I  know  it.  lie  told  me.  But 
you  may  be  interested  to  know  that  from  today  he  has 
promised  me  to  never  drink  too  much  again. 

CARLTON 

Fine !    Fine ! 

MARIAN 

Did  he  ever  promise  you  that? 

[69] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

CARLTON 

About  once  a  month.  Oftener  if  he  was  in  debt. 

MARIAN 

He'll  keep  the  promise  he's  made  me. 

CARLTON 

Maybe  you're  right.  I  hope  you  are.  If  you  cure 
him  you'll  be  the  first.  I've  seen  more  than  you  have 
of  men  and  beasts  and  there's  precious  little  difference 
between  them  when  you  get  down  to  tin-tacks.  If  they're 
just  naturally  vicious  nothing  this  side  of  the  grave 
will  get  it  out  of  them.  You  can  beat  'em  and  pet  'em 
and  get  on  their  good  side  and  have  them  all  straightened 
out  fine  as  silk  and  without  a  second's  warning  back  they 
go  to  their  old  tricks.  Seen  it  in  beasts.  Seen  it  in 
men.     Arthur's  one  of  them.     He's  naturally  vicious. 

MARIAN 

He's  not. 

CARLTON 

Ever  seen  him  ride  a  horse? 

MARIAN 

Often. 

CARLTON 

Ever  looked  at  its  mouth  when  he's  done  riding  it? 

MARIAN 

No.    Why? 

CARLTON 

Look  at  it  next  time.  Ever  see  him  with  a  dog? 
There  isn't  a  dog  at  home  that  will  go  near  him.  And 
the  horses  come  back  to  the  stables  sweaty  and  bloody 

[70] 


Act  I:    NORTHCHESTEIl 

and  no  good  for  days.  .  .  .  Watch  a  man  with  animals 
if  you  want  to  get  a  line  on  him.  .  .  .  They'd  treat  hu- 
man beings  the  same.  .  .  .  Ever  see  him  in  one  of  his 
tempers  ? 

MARIAN 

[Laughs.']  Often.  I  love  his  tempers.  They're  quick 
and  loud  and  devastating  .  .  .  and  over  in  two  seconds. 
They're  very  picturesque.  And  he's  never  so  charming 
as  when  he's  asking  to  be  forgiven  after  one  of  them. 

CARLTON 

Fine.     Fine.     You've  got  him  right,  I  can  see  that. 

MARIAN 

Why,  at  tennis,  the  other  day, — remember  Father? 
— the  umpire  called  three  balls  running,  out,  that  were 
inches  in  and  he  flared  up,  swore  a  mighty  swear  and 
threw  his  racquet  right  across  the  court  into  the  bay. 
"Then  in  a  second  it  was  all  over.  They  brought  him 
a  new  racquet  and  he  ran  out  the  set  and  the  match, 
advanced  to  shake  hands  with  his  opponent,  who  walked 
furiously  off  the  court.  Arthur  muttered  "Damn  poor 
sportsman"  and  we  all  shrieked. 

HALE 

The  high-light  of  the  afternoon.  No  harm  in  it. 
None  at  all. 

CARLTON 

[Looks  at  Hale  grimly.]  No,  of  course  not.  [To 
Marian.]  If  you  happened  to  be  the  subject  of  one  of 
those  picturesque,  devastating  outbursts  he'd  treat  you 

[71] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

like  the  racquet  and  they  wouldn't  be  able  to  bring  him 
another  and  go  on  with  the  game. 

MARIAN 

You  don't  understand  him.  I  do.  He's  grown  physi- 
cally but  not  mentally.  That's  what  high-priced  schools 
do  for  boys  when  their  fathers  take  no  interest  in  them. 
They  develop  their  bodies,  mostly.  He's  been  traveling 
with  a  swift  set  who  mistake  noise  for  having  a  joyous 
time.     It's  only  a  phase,  Mr.  Carlton. 

HALE 

Sure.     Not  the  slightest  bit  of 

CARLTON 

Harm  ? 

MARIAN 

Of  course  not.  He  adores  me  and  I  do  him.  I'm 
going  to  make  him  all  over  again  into  a  fine  man.  You 
gave  in.  I'm  going  to  stick.  There  are  too  few  Arthurs. 
Too  few  picturesque,  devastating  men-children  of  twen- 
ty-four. They  are  the  bright  spots  in  this  grey  old 
world. 

CARLTON 

Oh,  they  are.  No  mistake  about  that.  They're  the 
bright-spots  all  right.  I've  seen  a  lot  of  picturesque,  de- 
vastating drunkards  of  twenty-four.  Especially  when 
I  went  to  take  Arthur  away.  He  was  right  in  the  middle 
of  them.  Wait  till  they're  forty,  if  they  ever  get  that 
far.  Xot  so  picturesque  maybe,  but  damned  devastated. 
.    .    .   Anyway  you're  going  into  it  with  your  eyes  open. 

MARIAN 

Wide  open.    Then  you  have  no  objection  to  me? 

[72] 


Act  I:    XORTHCHESTER 

CARLTON 

I'm  a  bit  afraid  for  you,  that's  all. 

MARIAN 

Don't  be.     I'll  save  Arthur. 

CARLTON 

I  see.  The  maternal  instinct.  That's  how  rotters  like 
Arthur  get  hold  of  nice  girls  like  you.  The  maternal 
instinct.  Nature  put  the  ball-and-chain  on  you  all  right 
when  they  gave  you  that.  .  .  .  Too  bad  you  didn't  pick 
out  a  decent,  clean  fellow  instead  of  a  mess  you've  got 
to  put  together. 

MARIAN 

You're  cruel!     Cruel!      I   wouldn't  try  to  save  you. 

You're  so  hard,  so  un-charming!  Arthur's — Arthur's 

[Breaks  off  in  anger  and  tears.] 

CARLTON 

Arthur's  24,  has  his  hair  and  his  figure.  That's  the 
only  difference,  my  dear. 

HALE 

Oh,  come,  come,  Marian.   Let's  all  be  happy  about  this. 

MARIAN 

[Gasping.]  I — am — happy.  But — he — frightens 
me.  .  .  .  It's  not  natural  to  hate  one's  son  like  that. 
To  say  such   cruel  things. 

HALE 

[Soothing  her.]  There!  There!  Come,  John,  let's 
all  be  happy  and  hopeful  about  it. 

[73] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

CARLTON 

I'm  not  so  happy  or  hopeful.  Marian,  now  that  you 
blame  me  for  being  responsible  for  Arthur's  want  of 
character,  what  has  your  father  done  with  making  yours? 

MARIAN 

He's  understood  me;  humoured  me;  kept  a  loose-rein 
on  me  so  that  I've  never  been  conscious  of  it. 

CARLTON 

[Slowly  and  firmly.]  You  try  to  ride  Arthur  on  a 
loose  rein  and  you'll  break  your  neck. 

MARIAN 

It's  terrible  to  hear  you  talk  of  your  son  like  that. 
You're  so  cruel.  .  .  .  Why  can't  you  let  him  stay — just 
for  tonight?  .  .  .  It's  our  engagement  day.  .  .  .  Please 
don't  take  him  away. 

[Carlton   shakes  his  head.] 

HALE 

Come,  be  a  sport,  John. 

CARLTON 

I'm  not  a  sport,  Reuben,  and  he's  going. 

MARIAN 

I  know  now  why  Arthur  hates  you.  You've  treated 
him  like  that  ever  since  he  was  a  child. 

CARLTON 

I  don't  care  how  much  he  hates  me.  But  his  mother 
doesn't  hate  me  and  I  won't  have  her  worried  for  a 
hundred  pups  like  him. 

[74] 


Act  I:    NORTHCHESTER 

HALE 

Now,  where's  the  harm? 

MARIAN 

I  shall  tell  Arthur  not  to  go. 

CARLTON 

I  wouldn't  do  that  if  I  were  you,  Marian.  He'd  want 
to  obey  you  and  he's  got  to  me.  I've  got  a  temper,  too. 
And  he  knows  it.  I'd  throw  him  into  the  bay  just  as 
he  did  the  racquet,  if  he  asked  for  it. 

MARIAN 

[Quietly  and  distinctly. ]  He  will  not  go  with  you, 
Mr.  Carlton. 

CARLTON 

He'll  be  out  here  dressed  to  travel  with  me  in  less 
than  five  minutes.     Stay  here  and  see  who  he'll  obey. 

MARIAN 

» 

Very  well,  Mr.  Carlton,  I'll  stay. 

[The  band  has  stopped.  Maud-Ethel,  Etta,  Jim 
and  Ned  come  dozen  the  steps  and  go  towards  their 
table,  chatting  and  laughing.  The  Waiter  brings 
fresh  glasses  and  clears  away  the  old  ones,  has 
check  signed  by  Ned,  then  sees  Hale  beckoning 
him,  crosses  over  to  table  xvhere  the  two  men  were 
standing  and  takes  order  from  Hale.  Asks  Carl- 
ton who  shakes  his  head,  exits  into  club-house. 
Whilst  this  is  being  done  Etta  has  called  Marian 
over  to  her.  They  start  talking,  then  walk  arm  in 
arm  to  the  club-house  steps.     Marian  goes  into  the 

[75] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

club-house.  Etta  goes  back  to  her  friends.  Carl- 
ton has  sunk  heavily  into  a  chair,  sat  back  and 
lighted  a  cigar.  Hale  looks  at  him,  laughs,  starts 
to  speak,  changes  his  mind,  takes  out  a  pipe,  lights 
it,  and  smokes  it  with  great  enjoyment.  Then  takes 
out  his  -watch  and  watches  the  minutes  passing,  now 
and  again  glancing  at  Carlton  with  a  humorous 
twinkle  in  his  eye.] 

MAUD-ETHEL 

What's  up  with  Arthur? 

ETTA 

Don't  look   now.      That's   his   father   over  there. 

[The  other  three  turn  at  once  and  look  at  Carlton. 
He  happens  to  be  looking  in  their  direction  and 
scowls  at  them.  Hale  beams  at  them.  They  in- 
stantly look  away.] 

Stupid.      I   told  you  not  to ! 

[They  look  at  each  other  meaningly.  Jim  whistles, 
a  low,  long  plaintive  whistle.  Ned  imitates  Carl- 
ton's scowl  and  his  determined  manner  of  sitting  in 
his  chair.  Maud-Ethel  shows  the  whites  of  her 
eyes  and  brings  her  fingers  together  as  though 
praying.  The  two  young  men  mix  and  pass  refresh- 
ments during  the  following.'] 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Why  has  Arthur  changed?     Isn't  he  going  to  dance 
anymore  ? 

ETTA 

Don't  know.     He  just  asked  me,  looking  as  black  and 

[76] 


Act  I:     NORTHCHESTER 

angry  as  that  old  fuss  looks  over  there,  to  ask  Marian 
quietly,  very  quietly,  to  go  into  the  club-house  and  meet 
him  in  the  little  room  off  the  club-office. 

JIM 

Bet  there's  been  a  row. 

NED 

Have  half  your  bet,  if  you  get  any  takers. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Fathers  ought  to  be  barred  from  clubs. 

ETTA 

Not  Marian's. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Well,  all  the  others,  including  mine. 

JIM 

I  second  that. 

NED 

Carried. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

And  all  mothers,  barring  none! 

JIM 

Object. 

NED 

Sustained.     I  vote  for  the  young  mothers.     Some  of 
them  are  smarter  than  flappers. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Married  people  should  have  clubs  of  their  own. 

JIM 

Where  would  you  get  your  scandal  from?     I  know 

[77] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

a  good  story  about  a  young  mother.    There  was  a  young 
mother  who  had  a 

ETTA 

Sshh !     Not  so  loud.     He's  listening. 
[They  all  look  at  Carlton,  then  giggling  and  whis- 
pering, exeunt  into  the  club-house.] 

HALE 

What's  become  of  Marian? 

CARLTON 

Gone  in  to  tell  him  not  to  go. 


HALE 
CARLTON 

HALE 
CARLTON 

HALE 
CARLTON 


Think  so? 

Sure. 

Who'll  he  obey? 

Me. 

Think  so? 

Sure. 

HALE 

Why  not  let  them  have  this  evening  together  anyway  i 

CARLTON 

No. 

Just  cranky? 

That's  it. 

It's  not  my  way. 


HALE 

CARLTON 

HALE 

[78] 


Act  I:    NORTHCHESTER 

CARLTON 

It's  mine. 

HALE 

That's  looking  for  trouble.     I  dodge  it. 

CARLTON 

He'll  have  the  trouble.     He's  not  going  to  bluff  me. 

HALE 

Suppose  you  do  carry  him  off.  What  good'll  it  do 
you? 

CARLTON 

Do  what  I  set  out  to  do.     Done  it  all  my  life. 

HALE 

Never  think  of  the  other  fellow? 

CARLTON 

Never. 

HALE 

You'll  lose  Arthur  altogether  that  way. 

CARLTON 

I  wish  to  God  I  could. 

HALE 

Well,  I  wouldn't  like  to  lose  Marian,  no  matter  what 
happened.  We're  pals,  Marian  and  I,  in  spite  of  our 
awkward  relationship. 

CARLTON 

You've  got  a  real  woman  for  a  child.  I've  got  a — 
Oh,    quit 

HALE 

I  wish  you  could  look  at  it  same  as  I  do.  If  there 
was  any  kick  coming  I  should  be  the  one  to  have  it. 

[791 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

CARLTON 

I  don't  care  about  him  being  engaged  or  marrying. 
It  isn't  that.  [Pounding  tahle.~\  But  when  it  comes 
to  pitting  his  will  against  mine  one  has  to  give  way 
and  it  won't  be  me. 

[The  Waiter  comes  from  the  club-house,  hands  Hale 
a  letter  and  goes  back  to  the  club-house.  Hale 
reads  the  letter;  his  brows  knit;  he  gives  an  ejacu- 
lation; then  he  laughs  gaily.'] 

hale 
John,   you    won't   take   him    to    Bar    Harbor   tonight. 
He's  gone. 

CARLTON 

Gone?     Where. 

hale 

[Reads  letter.]  "Dear  Dad,  Arthur  has  obeyed  me. 
By  the  time  you  get  this  we  will  be  speeding  fifty 
miles  an  hour  on  a  loose  rein  to  the  State  of  Connecticut. 
There  we  will  be  married.  I  will  phone  you  after  the 
ceremony  and  we  will  all  dine  together  and  you  can 
give  us  your  blessing.  We  are  sorry  to  do  it  this  way  but 
Mr.  Carlton  was  so  unreasonable  what  else  could  we 
do?  Give  him  our  love.  Till  tonight,  Daddy  dear. 
Your  loving,  dutiful  and  obedient  daughter, 

Marian." 

[Carlton  makes  an  impulsive  movement.] 

hale 
You're  not  going  to  try  and  stop  'em?     Nothing  silly 
like  that,  John? 

[80] 


Act  I:    NORTHCHESTER 

CARLTON 

Stop  'em!     Stop  'em!     [Laughs.] 

Why  should  I  ?  That's  for  you  to  do  if  you  want  to. 
I've  got  him  off  my  hands  for  good.  That's  the  end 
of  my  chapter.  The  next  will  be  at  Marian's.  Poor 
Marian. 

HALE 

Join  us  at  dinner  tonight? 

CARLTON 

No,  thank  ye.  I'll  carry  the  good  news  to  his  mother. 
Good-bye,  Reuben. 

HALE 

Good-bj^e,   John.      Cheer  up. 

CARLTON 

Sure  I  will.  I  hope  you're  right,  Reuben — that  no 
harm  will  come  of  it.      [Goes  away  quickly.] 

[The  band  flares  up  suddenly  into  a  spirited  dance. 
Hale  brightens  at  the  delightful  discord  and  smil- 
ing contentedly,  humming  the  tune,  he  leisurely 
goes  into  the  club-house.'] 

THE   END  OF  ACT  I 


[81] 


Act  II:     NEW  YORK 

A  charmingly  furnished  "Rest-Room"  connected  with  a 
private  ball-room  in  a  fashionable  New  York  hotel. 
Through  the  closed  folding-doors  can  be  heard  spirited 
and  delightful  dance-music  mingled  with  the  chatter 
of  happy  voices  and  joyous  laughter.  Tom  Carrol 
is  moving  restlessly  and  nervously  about  the  room. 
The  sounds  seem  to  distract  him.  There  is  evidently 
no  gaiety  in  his  thoughts.  In  from  the  passage  comes 
a  tall,  slender,  distinguished-looking  young  lady  of 
twenty-six.  She  has  the  authority  of  manner  and 
the  quality  of  voice  of  one  accustomed  to  self-disci- 
pline and  who  has  found  in  a  vocation  the  outlet  a 
woman  needs  for  self-development.  Madeleine 
Trent  is  one  of  the  recent  actresses  who  have  en- 
deared themselves  to  the  less  jaded  of  the  New  York 
theatre-goers.  She  greets  Tom  warmly.  He  brightens 
at  her  greeting,  and  momentarily  forgets  his  brooding 
thoughts. 

TOM 

[Smiling  with  genuine  pleasure.]      How  do  you  do, 
Miss  Trent?     I  saw  your  play  tonight. 

MADELEINE 

Did  you?     How  nice!     Like  it? 

TOM 

Very  much.    And  you,  if  I  may  say  so. 

[82] 


Act  II:    NEW  YORK 

MADELEINE 

Oh — do  say  it  I  love  to  hear  nice  things.  One 
sometimes  reads  such  horrid  ones. 

TOM 

Not  on  you.  .   .   .  Surely? 

MADELEINE 

Why  not?  There's  no  serum  one  can  take  against 
them.    ...   So  Marian  and  Arthur  are  off? 

TOM 

[Uneasily.  ]     Yes. 

MADELEINE 

I'd  like  to  have  gone  to  the  boat  but  I  have  a  matinee 
tomorrow.  How  jolly  for  them.  .  .  .  I  go  to  London 
next  month. 

TOM 

Really  ? 

MADELEINE 

They're  taking  the  whole  company.  I  am  so  excited 
about  it. 

TOM 

It's  just  the  play  London  will  like. 

MADELEINE 

Do  you  think  so?     Isn't  it  too  American? 

TOM 

It  couldn't  be  for  London. 

MADELEINE 

[Smiling.]     Do  they  understand  us  as  well  as  that? 

[83] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

TOM 

Better.     They've  had  more  American  plays  than  their 
own  since  1914. 

MADELEINE 

I  do  hope  they'll  like  it.     It's  one  of  the  things  I've 
dreamed  of.     Making  a  success  in  London. 

TOM 

I'll  try  and  be  at  your  "first-night."     My  headquar- 
ters are  in  London. 

MADELEINE 

Isn't  that  splendid?      Do  come.     And  let  me  know 
afterwards,  will  you? 

TOM 

I'd  be  glad  to. 

MADELEINE 

Aren't  you  excited  about  going  to  London? 

TOM 

No.     I   did  look   forward  to  it  at  first.     But  oh,  I 
don't  know — I've  rather  lost  interest. 

MADELEINE 

What  a  shame ! 

TOM 

Isn't  it? 

MADELEINE 

It's  a  great  tragedy  when  one  loses  interest.     I  never 
do  now.     I  spend  all  my  time  preparing. 

TOM 

Do  you? 

MADELEINE 

[Nods.]      I  didn't  realize  until  I  went  on  the  stage 
how  really  ignorant  I  am.     I  thought  I  was  quite  fairly 

[84] 


Act  II:    NEW  YORK 

well  educated  until  I  played  my  first  part.  I  found  I 
couldn't  walk,  or  talk  or  listen  or  stand  still.  I  was 
entirely  feet  and  hands.  No  body.  No  brain.  No 
voice.     Nothing. 

TOM 

[Smiling.]  Judging  from  tonight  you  must  have 
learned  fast. 

MADELEINE 

Thank  you.  .  .  .  Oh !  but  all  I  have  still  to  learn !  I 
think  it's  the  hardest  profession  in  the  world.  And 
the  most  absorbing.  You  should  understand  music, 
painting,  dancing,  fencing,  people  and  have  a  smattering 
of  other  languages — [smiling] — after  you've  really 
learned  your  own.  .  .  .  I'm  trying  to. — Then  you  should 
know  all  walks  of  life.  Be  able  to  cry  bitterly  or  be 
frenzied  with  rage  or  go  into  paroxysms  of  laughter. 
Curse,  pray,  beseech,  command.  A  Queen  in  one  play, 
a  harlot  in  the  next.  A  Goddess  or  a  servant-girl.  And 
have  the  imagination  to  be  the  character  completely  the 
hours  you  are  on  the  stage.  Quite  an  undertaking  for 
a  conventional  person  who's  only  known  my  own  silly 
little  group  of  people.  We  never  thought  anything 
mattered  as  long  as  we  had  a  good  time. 

TOM 

Why  did  you  take  it  up  ?     You  didn't  have  to. 

MADELEINE 

I  thought  it  was  easy !  It  looked  easy  and  the  people 
in  it  seemed  so  jolly  and  happy.  I  had  quite  a  shock 
when  I  got  my  first  part — through  Arthur. 

[85] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

TOM 

Oh? 

MADELEINE 

He  rather  liked  me  once  upon  a  time. 

TOM 

Ah! 

MADELEINE 

He  took  me  one  day  to  a  manager  and  he  engaged  me 
on  the  spot. 

TOM 

How  fortunate. 

MADELEINE 

I  found  out  afterwards  it  wasn't  because  I  impressed 
him,  but  Arthur  knew  where  to  get  a  special  brand  of 
liquor  the  manager  liked.  At  least  that's  what  Arthur 
said. 

TOM 

It  sounds  feasible. 

MADELEINE 

And  the  part  wasn't  very  important.  So  I  started — 
a  little  more  than  a  year  ago.  It  was  heart-breaking 
at  first;  wretched.  But  now  I  enjoy  every  minute  of 
the  day. 

TOM 

And  night? 

MADELEINE 

No.  This  is  an  orgy  for  me.  I  never  go  to  parties 
any  more.  They  spoil  the  whole  morning.  And  I 
love  my  mornings  now.  But  I  couldn't  refuse  Marian 
and  Arthur.     Isn't  it  wonderful — their  marrying? 

TOM 

Isn't  it?      [Evasively.] 

[86] 


Act  II:    NEW  YORK 

MADELEINE 

I  was  astonished.  She  used  to  talk  of  you  all  last 
year,  [He  looks  away.]  It  must  have  been  very  sud- 
den. She  always  was  impulsive.  What  a  dear  she  is ! 
I  met  her  today  dashing  about  bu}ring  everything  imag- 
inable. The  car  was  full  of  boxes.  She  had  more  in 
her  arms.  I  told  her  she  should  wait  for  Paris  and 
she  laughed  deliciously  and  said  she'd  buy  more  there. 
Oh,  well!  It's  a  wonderful  time  in  one's  life,  and  one 
only  has  it  once. 

TOM 

I've  known  some  daring  exceptions. 

MADELEINE 

Marian  won't  be  one.  She's  the  kind  that  marries 
once  and,  hit  or  miss,  sticks  to  it. 

[Tom  is  quite  distressed — presses  his  hand  over  his 
forehead.] 

MADELEINE 

And  Arthur's  a  perfect  dear.  And  now  that  he's 
married,  he'll  quiet  down  and  be  ever  so  good  to  Marian. 
I'm  sure  of  that.      [Laughs  as  she  thinks.] 

Wouldn't  it  be  wonderful  if  we  all  met  in  London 
or  Paris? 

TOM 

Wouldn't  it? 

MADELEINE 

We  must  try  to  arrange  it.  Have  a  real  American 
dinner.  Real  American  news:  a  meeting  of  the  clans 
three  thousand  miles  from  New  York. 

[Jim  and  Ned,  fairly  well  lit,  come  in  from  the  pas- 
sage.] 

[87] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

JIM 
[Speaking  so  that  by  the  time  he  has  finished  they 
are  facing  Tom  and  Madeleine.]  But  the  funniest  part 
was,  when  Bill  was  taking  four  gallons  for  a  week-end 
and  ran  the  car  right  over  an  embankment.  [Almost 
cries  with  laughter,  then  suddenly  stops  short.]  Hello, 
Tom.      [Shakes  hands.] 

NED 

[Madeleine  shakes  hands.]  Fancy  you!  I  haven't 
seen  you  around  anywhere.  And  how's  Tom?  [Shakes 
Tom's  hand.] 

JIM 

[Bending  over  Madeleine.]      Renegade. 

MADELEINE 

Why? 

JIM 

Desertress.  You've  jilted  us.  Every  party  I  ask 
feverishly  "Where's  Madeleine?"  And  they  answer 
gloomily  "Not  here."     Who  is  he? 

MADELEINE 

It's  a  she. 

JIM 

Oh? 

MADELEINE 

At  least  I  like  to  think  it  a  she. 

JIM 
Well,  who  is  her?      [Laughs.] 

MADELEINE 

My  art.      [Laughs.] 

[88] 


Act  II:    NEW  YORK 

NED 

Where's  the  bride? 

JIM 
And  groom? 

MADELEINE 

Dancing,  I  suppose.      I've  only  just  come. 

JIM 

Hello.     Look.      [Points  to  refreshment  table;  hurries 
to  it.] 

NED 

[Follows  him  eagerly.] 
[Filling  glass.]      Madeleine? 

MADELEINE 

No,  thanks. 

NED 

Just  a  spot? 

MADELEINE 

Not  even  a  drop. 

NED 

Teeny    one?      [She    shakes    her    head.]      Tom?     Of 
course  not,  you're  a  dry.      [Mixes  his  own.] 

JIM 

[Coming     down     to     Madeleine,     glass     in     hand.] 
What's  the  matter?     Feeling  blue? 

MADELEINE 

[Smiling  up  at  him.]     Not  at  all.     Never  jollier. 

JIM 

Then  why  not ?     [Holding  up  glass.] 

MADELEINE 

I've  stopped. 

[891 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

JIM 

Why?     Can't  you  get  any  good  stuff?     Arthur  knows 
where  you  can. 

MADELEINE 

No.     Besides  I've  a  matinee  tomorrow. 

JIM 

All  the  more  reason. 

MADELEINE 

No. — Can't  do  it  any  more,  Jim. 

JIM 

Why,  every  actress  I  know  takes  all  she  wants. 


MADELEINE 

Actress? 

JIM 

Sure. 

MADELEINE 

Where  do  they  act? 

JIM 

Anywhere 

MADELEINE 

For  instance? 

JIM 

Well — musical  things,  you  know.  ...  I  never  go  to 
the  theatre  myself  .  .  .  just  musical  comedy  or  revue. 
.  .  .  But  I  know  lots  of  actresses.  .  .  .  Lots.  [Smiles 
broadly  as  he  thinks  of  them.] 

MADELEINE 

Oh — I  see.  You  mean  the  "non-commissioned  ladies 
of  the  stage"? 

[90] 


Act  II:    NEW  YORK 

NED 

[As  the  hell  rings  off  in  the  distance,  ranges  himself 
alongside  Jim  and  sings.] 

"Look  out;  here  come  the  damn  police,  the  damn 
police/' 

JIM 

[Singing  with  him.] 

"The  damn  police.  Look  out;  here  come  the  damn 
police, 

"The  damn  police  are  here."* 

MADELEINE 

Then  you  do  go  to  the  theatre.       That's  from  a  play. 

NED 

[Laughing.']  I  know.  I  thought  it  was  a  musical 
show. 

JIM 
So  he  took  me.     "Lillian,"   he  called  it. 
[Etta    and    Maud-Ethel    enter    in    evening    dress. 
Ned  and  Jim  arm  in  arm  march  up  to  them  sing- 
ing the  same  chorus.] 

ETTA 

How  festive!  Hello,  Tom.  Why  Madeleine,  dear- 
est.     [Sits  beside  her.] 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Where  did  you  get  it?     [Looking  from  Ned  to  Jim.] 

jim 

It's  a  touching  story.     Ned  and  I  found  a  man 

*  Sung  in  "Liliom." 

[91] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Never  mind.  .  .  .  Why,  Tom.  ...  I  am  glad.  .  .  . 
And  the  actress.  [Kisses  Madeleine  on  both  cheeks.] 
Madeleine,  my  dear,  you're  too  wonderful.  Didn't 
think  you  could  do  it.     Really  I  didn't.     Did  you,  Etta? 

[Jim  and  Ned  mix  drinks  for  Etta  and  Maud- 
Ethel.] 

ETTA 

I  haven't  seen  it  yet.     But  I'm  going. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Oh,  you've  got  to.  Madeleine's  too  adorable.  [To 
Madeleine.]  It  must  be  trying  to  play  a  good  woman. 
But  you  make  her  almost  interesting.     Really  you  do. 

ETTA 

Is  she  a  good  woman? 

MAUD-ETHEL 

I  should  say  so.  Sticks  to  one  husband  and  every- 
thing. Don't  you,  my  dear?  [Madeleine  smiles  and 
nods.] 

ETTA 

How  mushy ! 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Not  the  way  Madeleine  plays  it.  Made  me  cry,  really 
you  did. 

ETTA 

It  must  be  fun  having  a  different  apartment  in  every 
act.  That's  the  kind  of  part  I'd  like  to  play.  Some 
bite  to  it. 

[92] 


Act  II:    NEW  YORK 

JIM 

[Handing  her  glass.]  Where  would  you  like  the 
apartments,  Etta? 

ETTA 

I'd  like  four.  Washington  Square  when  she  starts 
out.  The  forties  after  she's  broken  the  ice. — The  sev- 
enties when  she  meets  a  senator  and  Riverside  Drive 
when  she  marries  Wall  Street  and  kills  herself  after 
her  real  lover  turns  up  and  throws  the  money  in  her 
face. 

[General  laugh  during  which  the  young  ladies  drink.] 

JIM 

[To  Madeleine.]     Change  your  mind?     A  quick  one? 

MADELEINE 

No,  thank  you. 

JIM 

Come  on.     Show  your  sporting  blood. 


MADELEINE 

JIM 
MADELEINE 

JIM 


No,  thanks. 
Really  quit? 
Yes. 

Never  ? 

MADELEINE 

I  can't  afford  to  any  more. 

JIM 

It  does  cost  a  lot.     Still  there  it  is,  free  and  flowing. 
[Points  to  table.] 

[93] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

MADELEINE 

It  costs  an  actress  more  than  the  price,  Jim.  Face, 
voice,  figure.     You  can't  buy  them  back. 

JIM 

Well — if  you  don't  take  anything  I  don't  see  what 
you   do   with  yourself.     Can't   sleep   all   day.     All   the 

actresses  I've  known 

[Arthur  comes  in  from  passage.  He  has  evidently 
"had  a  few"  earlier  in  the  evening.  Is  genial,  full 
of  spirits.     A  little  noisy.] 

NED 

Hello — The  groom.  [Grabs  Jim's  arm,  they  advance 
to  meet  Arthur,  calling.]  Hail!  Hail!  Hail!  [Slaps 
him  on  the  back — shakes  him  by  the  hand — greets  him 
very  ostentatiously.] 

ARTHUR 

[Laughingly  returns  the  greeting.  Then  turns  to  the 
charmers.  Shakes  hand  with  them.]  Jolly  of  you  to 
come,  Mad.     Marian'll  be  so  pleased. 

MADELEINE 

I  had  to,  Arthur.  I  wanted  to  wish  you  Godspeed 
and  luck. 

ARTHUR 

I  know.     You  always  wish  me  luck,  don't  you? 

MADELEINE 

Of  course  I  do.      [Meaningly.]     And  Marian! 

ARTHUR 

You  brought  it  to  us,  Madeleine.     You  introduced  us. 

[94] 


Act  II:    NEW  YORK 

[Sees  Tom  standing  quite  near — his  face  set  and  hard.] 
Hello,  Tom.  [Shakes  hands  with  him.]  Why  aren't 
you  all  dancing? 

MADELEINE 

I've  only  just  come. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

So  have  we.     We'll  dance  the  next. 
[Jim  and  Ned  come  down  each  side  of  Arthur,  take 
his  arm  and  lead  him  to  the  refreshment  table.] 

JIM 

You  might  ask  us  to  have  something,  eh,  Ned? 

NED 

I  rather  expected  him  to. 

ARTHUR 

My   dear    fellow,   it's    there.     Why   didn't   you   help 
yourselves  ? 

JIM 

Not  without  you.     Could  we? 

XED 

I    should   say   not.     I    do    feel   a   bit   faint.     It's   so 
long May  I,  Arthur?     [Winks  at  Jim.] 

ARTHUR 

[Mixing  drinks  at   table.]      Why,  of  course.     Stupid 
of  you  to  have  waited  for  me. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

I  didn't  notice  much  waiting. 

ETTA 

It  was  the  first  thing  thev  did. 

[95] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

JIM 

We'll  jazz  all  night  and  carry  you  on  board. 

ARTHUR 

I'm  game.     Hurrah!      [Drinks.]     Ah! 

JIM 

Smooth  seas. 

NED 

[Holding  tip  glass.]     Good  liquor  on  board. 

JIM 

The  wine  of  the  country  in  dear  old  Paris,  France. 

NED 

Pretty   frocks   for  Marian. 

JIM 
Paquin. 

NED 

Jewels  from  Cartier. 

JIM 

All  the  fun  of  the  fair  after  dark. 

NED 

And  may  you  never  draw  a  sober  breath  until  you  get 
back. 

JIM 
The  Groom  !      The  Groom !    Arthur ! 

NED 

The  Groom!     Arthur!      [Both  drink — emptying  their 

glasses.] 

JIM 

And  one  more  for  good  measure.      [Drinks  and  fills 


glass.] 

[96] 


Act  II:    NEW  YORK 

NED 

That's  sound.      [Fills  his.] 

ARTHUR 

Right.  My  turn  to  give  a  toast.  [Fills  his  glass, 
holds  it  up.]  My  friends!  [Looks  smilingly  and  hap- 
pily at  them  all  and  drinks.] 

JIM 

I'm  in  on  that.      [Drinks.] 

NED 

You  can't  leave  me  out.      [Drinks.] 
To  Marian.      [Drinks.] 

JIM 

Mrs.  Arthur.      [Drinks.] 

ARTHUR 

[Looks  at  Tom.]     You're  not  drinking? 

TOM 

No.     I  don't. 

ARTHUR 

Of  course,  I  forgot.  [Looking  insolently  at  Tom.] 
Doesn't  nauseate  you  to  watch  us,  does  it? 

TOM 

[Locking  steadily  at  Arthur.]      Not  in  the  least. 

[The  music  stops.  The  doors  open  from  the  ball- 
room and  Marian  and  several  guests  come  through 
the  passage  into  the  room.  Arthur  meets  the 
others  and  takes   them   to  the   refreshment   table. 

[97] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

Marian  is  in  a  charming  evening  dress: — she  is  very 
white  and  tired.  They  give  her  a  boisterous  wel- 
come. Amid  much  chatter  she  shakes  hands  with 
Maud-Ethel;  Etta,  etc.,  etc.,  finally  reaches 
Madeleine  whom  she  kisses  and  sits  beside.  Dur- 
ing her  passage  to  Madeleine  she  is  greeted  with — 

ETTA 

Marian,  dear. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

You  look  too  adorable. 

TOM 

[Nervously.]      How  are  you,  Marian? 

MARIAN 

I'm  worn  out.  I've  been  rusbing  about  since  early 
morning.  I  nearly  sent  you  a  message  to  excuse  me. 
If  I'd  only  been  a  guest  I  would  have.  That's  the 
delightful  thing  about  being  only  a  guest.  A  headache, 
a  sick  aunt,  or  a  distant  dead  relative  make  splendid 
excuses.  But  as  a  hostess — oh,  no!  There's  aspirin 
for  a  headache;  for  a  sick  aunt — a  doctor;  and  for  a 
dead,  distant  relation — a  coffin.  The  hostess  is  the 
piper.  She  calls  the  tune  and  must  be  there  to  have 
it  played.  ...  It  was  so  sweet  of  you  all  to  come. 
It  was  Arthur's  idea.  He  felt  you'd  all  like  to  see  us 
before  we  go. 

JIM 

Good  for  you,  Arthur.     We  do. 

NED 

Didn't  we  see  you  meet  for  the  first  time? 

[98] 


Act  II:    NEW  YORK 

ETTA 

And  fall  in  love? 

MAUD-ETHEL 

And  spoon  all  over  the  club-porch? 

NED 

Weren't  we  there  when  you  bolted? 

MAUD-ETHEL 

And  made  Arthur's  awful  thing  of  a  father  so  mad? 

JIM 

Who  welcomed  you  to  New  York  from  your  wedding 
trip? 

NED 

And   we're   going  to  give   you   the   send-off   of   your 
lives  tomorrow  morning. 

JIM 

We'll  keep  Arthur  company  until  it's  time  to  start. 

NED 

And,  like  the  real  pals  we  are,  we'll  bear  him  up  the 
gang-plank. 

MARIAN 

[Trying  to  laugh  but  more  than  a  little  anxious  and 
distressed.]  Oh,  no.  Nothing  like  that.  We'll  just 
have  a  dance  or  two.     That's  all. 


JIM 

All? 

NED 

With  that  band? 

JIM 

Lew  Isaacs,  the  "Jazz  Demon"   from  the  "Grove"? 
If  we  quit  before  daylight  he'd  be  hurt. 

[99] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

NED 

I  should  say  so.     He'd  sob  all  down  his  diamonds. 
[To  Marian.]     May  I  have  the  next? 

MARIAN 

No,   Ned.     I'm   so   tired.     I    can't   dance   any   more 
tonight. 

ARTHUR 

Oh,  come.     You  mustn't  throw  a  chill  into  everyone. 

MARIAN 

[Hurriedly.]     Why,  of  course  not.     Perhaps  I'll  be 
all  right  in  a  little  while.     Just  now  I  couldn't. 

ARTHUR 

I  know  what  would  put  you  right  in  a  minute. 

MARIAN 

What,  Arthur? 

ARTHUR 

A    little    glass    of    cool,    dry,    well-iced    champagne. 
Right  out  of  the  bucket.     See?      [Pointing  to  it.] 

MARIAN 

[Shaking  her  head  and  smiling.]      No,  dear. 
[Tom     makes     a    movement     forward.       Madeleine 
watches  anxiously.] 

JIM 

It's  the  very  thing,  Marian. 

NED 

Of  course  it  is.     Let  me  open  it.     May  I,  Arthur? 
I  love  that  expectant  moment  before  the  reluctant  cork 

[100] 


Act  II:    NEW  YORK 

gives  up  to  the  steady  pressure  of  finger  and  thumb. 
May  I  ? 

ARTHUR 

Surest  tiling  you  know. 

[Goes  to  table  with  Ned:   together  they  open  bottle 
and  arrange  glasses.] 

ETTA 

Do.  Marian  dear.  It's  too  heavenly  when  you're 
fagged. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Works  like  magic  with  me.      Really  it  does,  Marian. 

MARIAN 

Awful  stuff.  Gets  up  your  nose  and  puckers  up  your 
tongue.     Brrh!      [Shudders  violently.'] 

MAUD-ETHEL 

It's  saved  me  many  a  time.  Oh,  many  a  time.  I 
was  so  dead  after  one  party  I  could  hardly  breathe. 
One  little  glass  sent  me  way  up  to  the  ether  and  I 
floated  through  two  more  parties  the  same  night  and 
got  home  when  dawn  was  breaking  fresh  as  paint. 

ETTA 

On  one  glass?     It  must  have  been  a  long  time  ago. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Oh,  I  took  a  few  more  to  keep  me  going. 

ETTA 

I  was  going  to  say. 

ARTHUR 

[Going  to  Marian  with  glass  of  champagne.]  Here 
we  are. 

[101] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

MARIAN 

I'd  rather  not,  Arthur. 

MADELEINE 

Don't  press  her.     She  doesn't  like  it. 

ARTHUR 

Come  on.     This  glass  will  have  more  effect  on  you 
than  a  whole  bottle  would  on  me. 

JIM 

I  should  say  so. 

NED 

Or  even  two,  Arthur. 

ARTHUR 

[Pressing  Marian.]     Just  a  glass.     Then  we'll  have 

a  dance  and  by  the  time  it's  over,  you'll  be  feeling  great. 

[Waits:  then  angrily.']     Come  on.     Don't  make  such  a 

fuss.      [Marian   looks   quickly  at  him,  takes   the  glass 

from  him.]     Down  she  goes. 

JIM 

Fancy  needing  coaxing — these  days. 

NED 

Makes  me  all  creepy.     [Shivering.] 

ETTA 

It's  really  rather  hectic,  Marian's  first  glass! 

MAUD-ETHEL 

The  road  to  ruin. 

ETTA 

Such  a  nice  road. 

[102] 


Act  II:    NEW  YORK 

JIM 

Paved  with  broken  bottles. 

ARTHUR 

[Irritably  to  Marian.]      Come  on! 

NED 

They're  off. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Let's  go! 

[Marian  drinks  the  glass.  Tom  and  Madeleine 
watch  her  anxiously.  Jim  swallows  in  imitation 
with  her  turning  to  Ned  who  does  likewise.] 

ETTA 

[As  Madeleine  finishes  the  glass.]     Doesn't  it  feel 
good? 

MAUD-ETHEL 

I'd  love  to  have  my  first  glass  again. 

MARIAN 

[Shivers;  hands  glass  to  Arthur.]      How  bitter! 

JIM 

Put  a  lump  of  sugar  in  the  next. 

ARTHUR 

Monticello — 1904?     Not  if  I  know  it. 

[Goes  to  table,  replaces  glass,  then  goes  to  door  of 
room  and  gives  signal  for  dance.  The  music 
crashes  from  the  ball-room.  Amid  much  chatter 
the  other  guests  go  into  the  ball-room.  Jim  asks 
Etta,  Arthur  asks  Maud-Ethel,  Ned  asks  Made- 
leine.] 

[103] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

MARIAN 

I'd  like  Madeleine  to  stay  with  me,  Ned.  You  and 
Tom  cut  in  on  the  others.     Do  you  mind? 

NED 

Not  a  bit.  Come  on,  Tom.  [To  Marian.]  Wait 
until  the  fizz  gets  in  its  fine  work.  You'll  dance  every 
one. 

[Goes  out.] 

TOM 

May  I  have  one  later,  Marian? 

MARIAN 

Yes,  Tom,  of  course.  Close  the  doors,  please,  when 
you  go  in.     And  do   ask  them  not  to  play  so   loudly. 

TOM 

All  right  I  will. 

[Goes  out,  closing  the  doors.     After  a  few  moments 
the  band  quiets  dozon.] 

MARIAN 

[Affectionately    to    Madeleine.]      It   is   nice   having 
you  here. 

MADELEINE 

I'm  sorry  you  gave  in  to  Arthur. 

MARIAN 

What  was  I  to  do?      I  hate  a  fuss. 

MADELEINE 

He  shouldn't  have  insisted.  He  knew  you  didn't 
want  to  take  it. 

[104] 


Act  II:    NEW  YORK 

MARIAN 

I'm  rather  glad  he  did.  I  don't  feel  anything  like 
so  tired.  [Quite  animatedly.]  I  really  feel  very  much 
better.      I  do,  really.     Much. 

MADELEINE 

I  know.  Then  it  passes  and  you  feel  fagged  again 
and  then  you  take  another — and  another — and  so  on 
through  an  evening  and  into  the  night.  I've  done  it. 
Then  in  the  morning,  after  a  restless,  tossing-about,  you 
wake  up,  your  mouth  parched,  your  nerves  jumping, 
your  face  bagged  and  drawn,  your  eyes  dull,  no  interest 
in  anything.      [Shivers.]      It's  not  worth  it. 

MARIAN 

[Laughs  brightly.]  What  a  picture!  [Pantomimes 
the  drawn  face,  the  listless  movements,  the  dull  eye  and 
the  jumping  nerves.]     Is  that  to  be  my  fate? 

MADELEINE 

I'd  be  doing  it  now,  I  suppose,  if  I  hadn't  a  real  in- 
terest in  my  life.  Something  that  fills  up  all  my  time. 
I'm  so  proud  of  being  allowed  to  be  an  actress  and  so 
jealous  about  what  people  say  of  us  that  I  never  give 
them  the  slightest  chance  to  belittle  the  theatre  thru 
anything  I  do. 

MARIAN 

I  know  you  don't.  I  know. — But  please  don't  think 
we  are  going  to  have  any  such  night  as  the  one  you've 
described. 

MADELEINE 

I'm  not  so  sure — as  far  as  Arthur  is  concerned.  It's 
a  shame,  Marian. 

[105] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

MARIAN 

From  the  time  we  go  on  board  he  will  take  nothing 
until  we  reach  Paris. 

MADELEINE 

And  then ?     This  every  night? 

MARIAN 

Certainly  not. 

MADELEINE 

That's  all  they  talk  about  when  they  get  back  from 
Paris.  The  Americans  they  met;  the  good  times  they 
had;  the  wine  they  drank.  Oh!  One  never  hears  any- 
thing else  among  the  Jims,  the  Neds  and  the  Arthurs. 

MARIAN 

Madeleine,  please,  don't  put  Arthur  in  that  class. 

MADELEINE 

He's  been  in  it  ever  since  I've  known  him. 

MARIAN 

He  won't  be  any  more. 

MADELEINE 

Oh,  Marian,  you  don't  know  how  different  life  is 
when  you  have  something  to  think  about.  Something 
to  do.     I  wish  you  had. 

MARIAN 

I  have.  Taking  care  of  Arthur.  [Laughs.]  That 
will  take  some  doing,  you  think.  This  is  only  a  little 
fun.  Did  'ems  think  we  were  beasts  cos  we  wanted  to 
be   silly   and   dance   and   drink   just  before  we   sailed 

[106] 


Act  II:    NEW  YORK 

away  ?     Oh,  how  solemn  baby  is !     [Jazzes  to  the  faint 
tune  in  the  distance.] 

MADELEINE 

[Laughing  in  spite  of  her  wish  not  to.]    Oh!    Marian. 

MARIAN 

[Laughs  gleefully.]  That's  right.  Laugh!  Even 
though  you  are  a  serious  actress  and  a  very  prim  and 
respectable  one.  Laugh!  [Suddenly  and  impulsively 
putting  her  arms  around  Madeleine.]  Arthur  is  such 
a  dear,  Madeleine.  We've  been  like  two  children  laugh- 
ing and  chatting  and  playing  games.  Not  a  care.  Not 
even  a  tiff,  much  less  a  quarrel.  It  has  been  so  sweet. 
We'll  always  be  happy  and  tender  and  thoughtful  of 
each  other.  .  .  .  That's  the  way  to  keep  marriage  per- 
fect. 

MADELEINE 

It  won't  be  if  you  plunge  into  the  same  set  over 
there. 

MARIAN 

But  we  won't.  We  won't.  ...  I  keep  telling  you  we 
won't. 

MADELEINE 

I  wish  you  were  going  to  Italy.  That's  where  I'd 
love  to  go.  The  pictures,  the  music,  the  beautiful  soft 
language  and  the  heavenly  sky.  Not  all  the  cheap  New 
York-ese  grafted  onto  a  French  city.  They  never  see 
Paris,  really.  Just  the  shops  and  the  race-course,  box- 
ing exhibitions  and  the  foul  things  put  on  just  for  the 
American  visitor.  [Lifts  her  shoulders  and  drops  them 
in  a  gesture  of  disgust.]     Out  half  the  night  and  the 

[107] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

glorious   morning   gone   before   they're   well   enough   to 
start  a  new  day.     Ugh!      [Shivers.] 

MARIAN 

Madeleine !  You  mustn't  think  we're  going  to  live 
that  kind  of  life.  Don't  judge  Arthur  by  tonight.  He's 
excited,  naturally.  The  first  time  either  of  us  has  gone 
abroad.  [Suddenly;  seriously.]  He's  only  liked  this 
sort  of  thing  because  he's  never  known  anything  better. 
Ned  and  Jim  were  his  idea  of  real  men  because  they've 
made  time  pass  pleasantly  for  him  while  he's  been  with 
them.  But  I've  been  showing  him  there  is  another  life 
just  as  attractive,  just  as  amusing  and  infinitely  more 
lasting.  [Waits,  while  the  music  beats  out  from  behind 
the  closed  doors.]  Why  has  that  kind  of  music  satisfied 
him?  Because  he  never  knew,  until  I  took  him  quite  re- 
cently, the  beauty  of  real  music.  .  .  .  That  was  why. 
Now  he  wonders  how  he  ever  found  pleasure  in  that  dis- 
cord. .  .  .  During  the  time  we  have  been  married  I've 
taken  him  to  some  heavenly  concerts  and  the  opera.  He 
didn't  like  them  very  much  at  first.  But  after  a  while 
he  did.  We've  looked  at  beautiful  pictures  and  read 
absorbing  books.  It  has  been  like  opening  a  new  world 
to  him.  He's  taken  a  drink  when  he  wanted  it.  But 
that's  all.  And  they've  been  so  seldom — so  far  be- 
tween— so — so — unimportant  to  him.  That  part  of  his 
life  is  finished.  Finished.  .  .  .  Poor  Arthur.  He's 
never  had  the  opportunity  to  expand.  Why,  he  doesn't 
know  his  own  country.  Hardly  his  own  language. 
After  a  trip  abroad  I'm  going  all  over  the  United  States 
with    him.     Show    him    how    wonderful    they    are    and 

[108] 


Act  II:    NEW  YORK 

what  real  men  can  be.  He  has  only  met  the  careless- 
living,  never-a-thought-for-the-morrow  kind.  Men  who 
run  round  and  round  in  a  mouse-trap.  After  all,  what 
chance  has  he  had?  His  home  influences  were  of  the 
worst.  A  mother,  nervy  and  peevish  and  hysterical.  A 
father  who  alternately  cursed  or  beat  him.  Then  spoiled 
him.  Not  one  of  the  boys  he  chummed  with  cared  for 
anything  except  shirking  in  class  and  amusing  them- 
selves out  of  it.  Naturally  Arthur  drifted  with  the 
rest.  Then  he  finally  got  to  college.  There  he  met  an 
older  set  who  drank,  talked  obscenely,  racketed  nightly 
in  the  nearby  town  and  were  thrown  out  of  cabarets. 
.  .  .  But  there  is  really  nothing  vicious  about  him. 
Just  habits,  contracted  through  the  wilful  indifference 
of  his  father.  Parents  cannot,  must  not  be  indifferent, 
Madeleine.  It's  a  divine  office,  being  a  parent. 
[Madeleine  kisses  her.]  When  we  get  home  we  will 
form  a  new  circle  of  friends  who  will  stimulate  the 
finer  things  in  him.  I  have  dreamed  it  all.  ...  If  I 
fail  it  will  be  my  own  fault,  not  Arthur's.  He  could 
have  lived  his  life  without  me.  I  couldn't  have  lived 
mine,  Madeleine,  without  him.  [Stares  out  into  the 
future.]  If  he  goes  back  it  will  be  because  I've  not  had 
patience  enough — strength  enough — or  loved  deeply 
enough. 

MADELEINE 

Of  course  he  won't  go  back.  I  am  so  sorry  I  said 
what  I  did.  Stupid  of  me.  There.  [Puts  her  hand  on 
Marian's.]  Forgive  me.  Everything  is  going  to  turn 
out  splendidly.     Oh !     And  we'll  meet  on  the  other  side. 

[109] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

[Marian  looks  at  her.]     Yes,  we  will.     They're  taking 
the  play  to  London — and  me.     Next  month. 

MARIAN 

Isn't  that  wonderful!     I'm  so  glad. 

MADELEINE 

Tom  is  coming  to  my  "first-night."  You  and  Arthur 
could  fly  over,  sup  with  me,  and  be  back  in  Paris  the 
next  morning. 

MARIAN 

We   will.     That's   another   thing   I   want  to   interest 
Arthur  in.     The  theatre  that  matters.     The  real  theatre. 
Plays  like  the  one  you're  in.     Not  brassy  music,  nudity, 
common  jokes   and   the   laughter  of   fools.      [Laughing 
gleefully.]      It's   like  taking  a  little  child  by  the  hand 
and  showing  him  all  the  things  I  like.     Poor  Arthur's 
seen  nothing  worth  while.      It  has  been  fun  taking  him 
to  all  the  places   I  wouldn't  think  of  telling  my  jazz- 
friends  I  knew  anything  about.     It's  been  such  fun. 
[Some  of  the  dancers  return.      Their  partners  bring 
them  refreshments.     Jim,  Arthur  and  Ned  imme- 
diately go  to  the  table  as  though  drawn  there  thru 
an  impelling  force.     Corks   begin  to  pop,   siphons 
hiss,  ice  rattles  in  the  glasses.     The  two  delightful 
girls,  Etta  and  Maud-Ethel,  sink  in  great  exhaus- 
tion on  cliairs  and  proceed  to  fan  themselves  with 
minute   and  somewhat   damp  handkerchiefs.      Tom 
lounges  over  near  Marian.     Jim  and  Ned  loyally 
bring  Maud-Ethel  and  Etta  refreshments.     Ar- 
thur drinks  copiously ,  then  brings  Marian  a  glass 
of  champagne  at  the  end  of  the  following.] 

[110] 


Act  II:    NEW  YORK 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Better,  dear? 

MARIAN 

Ever  so  much. 

ETTA 

You  were  very  wise  to  stay  here. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Wasn't  she? 

MARIAN 

Why? 

ETTA 

The  floor's  too  sticky  for  words. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

I  hate  the  band  so  near. 

ETTA 

It's  too  loud  for  a  small  room. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

And  Tom  wouldn't  cut  in.     Just  sulked  at  the  door. 

ETTA 

Come  into  the  next  one  and  get  some  life   into  it. 
[Jim  hands  glass.]     Thanks. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

[Takes  a  glass;  sips  it;  makes  a  wry  face.]      I  don't 
like  it  tonight. 

ETTA 

Nor  I. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Sickly. 

ETTA 

No  taste  at  all  to  me. 

[Ill] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

JIM 

Monticello — 1904! 

NED 

It's  too  bad  about  you.     Getting  bored? 

ETTA 

Fed  up. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

I'm  sick  of  jazz. 

ETTA 

And  this.      [Hands  glass  back  to  Ned.] 

JIM 

[Sidles  up  to  Madeleine  as  though  he  was  "fed-up" 
zcith  Etta  and  Maud-Ethel.]  You  know,  Madeleine — 
of  course  I  don't  go  to  the  theatre  myself — except  girl- 
shows — but  tell  me,  do  they  really  make  love  on  the 
stage  ? 

MADELEINE 

What  do  you  think? 

JIM 

Oil,  I  don't  know.  Haven't  thought  about  it  really. 
Of  course  I  don't  go  myself.  But  you  hear  things. 
I've  been  told  they  really  do.  And  that  the  leading- 
man  is  always  in  love  with  the  leading-woman  and  she 
with  him. 

MADELEINE 

Have  you  really? 

JIM 

Heard  it  heaps  of  times. 

MADELEINE 

So  they  don't  have  to  act?  Just  play  themselves? 
Make  real  love,  in  public,  eight  times  a  week? 

[112] 


Act  II:    NEW  YORK 

JIM 

Of  course,  I  don't  know.     You  see  I  never- 


MADELEINE 

— go  yourself? 

JIM 

No. — But  when  they  embrace  and  all  that — do  they 
really  feel  it? 

MADELEINE 

Would  it  please  you  to  think  they  did? 

JIM 
I  fancy  the  public  likes   to  think  it.     Gives  them  a 
bit  of  "extra."     Eh? 

MADELEINE 

Would  the  public  like  to  think  real  blood  was  spilled 
when  someone  was  killed  on  the  stage? 

JIM 

Oh,  well,  you  know 

MADELEINE 

If  they  want  real  embraces  why  not  real  murders? 

JIM 

See  what  you  mean.     Of  course  I  don't  go. 

MADELEINE 

You   should.     I'd  like   to  have   an   intelligent  man's 
viewpoint. 

JIM 

Perhaps  I  will. 

MADELEINE 

Do. 

[113] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

ARTHUR 

[Very  flushed — a  little  unsteady  but  very  happy — ■ 
holds  out  glass  to  Marian.]  Why,  you  look  a  thousand 
percent  more  yourself.  Less  faded  an'  everything. 
You  look  sparkling.  See  what  one  little  glass  will  do. 
Give  this  one  a  chance. 

MARIAN 

No  more,  dear. 

ARTHUR 

Come  on,  let's  be  jolly. 

MARIAN 

I'm  quite  jolly  enough. 

ARTHUR 

Nothing  on  board  ship.  Not  a  drop.  That's  a 
promise.  Just  tonight.  Last  time  in  the  old  country. 
Here  we  go. 

MARIAN 

[Shakes  her  head.]      No,  Arthur. 

ARTHUR 

Just  to  please  me.  Won't  ask  you  again.  Madeleine 
and  Tom  would  freeze  any  party.  Let  'em  see  you're 
a  "good  fellow."     Just  sip  it  and  show  'em  an  example. 

MARIAN 

[To  stop  any  further  discussion  sips  it  and  hands 
glass  back  to  Arthur.]      There. 

ARTHUR 

That's  the  stuff.  [To  Tom.]  See?  Do  you  good 
too.  Then  you  wouldn't  stand  around  as  if  you  didn't 
know  you  were  alive. 

[114] 


Act  II:    NEW  YORK 

TOM 

I  am  afraid  I'm  rather  a  damper. 

ARTHUR 

No.  A  dryer.  [Laughs  uproariously  a*  he  turns  to 
Ned  and  Jim.  He  is  growing  more  unsteady  and  noisier 
momentarily. ]  Hear  that?  Tom  said  to  me — of  course 
he's  not  drinking  anything — he  said  to  me  he  was  a 
damper  on  the  party  and  I  said  "No,  Tom,"  I  said, 
"No!     You're  a  dryer!"     [He  laughs  loudly. ] 

[Jim  looks  at  Ned  and  sobs  on  his  shoulder.] 

ARTHUR 

[Turns  to  Maud-Ethel  and  Etta.]  Must  tell  you. 
Tom  said  to  me — 

[The   band  starts  again,   drowning  Arthur's   voice; 
he  goes  on  telling  his  story  to  the  amazed  young 
ladies:  when  the   music  reaches  a  few  quiet   bars 
Arthur  is  heard  shrieking.] 
I  said  "No,  Tom,  you're  a  dryer!"     [He  is  almost  in- 
articulate, so  overcome  is  he  by  his  brilliant  mot.] 

ETTA 

Did  you  really  say  that? 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Too  wonderful! 

[As  Arthur  lurches  over  to  tell  Madeleine,  chuck- 
ling to  himself,  Maud-Ethel  and  Etta  look  at  each 
other,  then  turn  to  Ned  and  Jim.  The  four  turn 
to  each  other  and  proceed  to  discuss  him,  tho  ex- 
actly what  they  say  cannot  be  heard  thru  the  in- 

[115] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

sistence  of  Isaac's  band.  They  start  into  the  dance 
room  but  the  girls,  thru  a  quiet  bar  of  the  music,  can 
be  heard  protesting.] 

ETTA 

But  it's  so  hot. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

And  noisy.  .  .  . 

ETTA 

I'm  going  after  this  one. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

So  am  I. 

[They  disappear  into  the  room.] 

ARTHUR 

[Going  to  Madeleine.]     Hear  what  I  said  to  Tom? 

MADELINE 

Yes  I  did.      [As  they  move  toward  the  dance  room.] 

ARTHUR 

I  suppose  it  was  bad,  eh? 

MADELEINE 

It  was  priceless,  Arthur. 

ARTHUR 

I  get  a  good  one  once  in  awhile.     Hear  what  I  said 

about     Jim's     home-brew [As     the     band    swells 

up  he  calls  out.]  Not  so  loud.  Damn  it — we're  not  in 
a  barn. 

[Band  plays  softly.  .  .  .  Marian  takes  Tom's  arm.] 

TOM 

Don't  dance  if  you're  tired. 

[116] 


Act  II:    NEW  YORK 

MARIAN 

I'm  not.     Arthur's  prescription  did  that.     Tiredness 
all  gone. 

TOM 

I'm  sorry  you  took  it,  Marian. 

MARIAN 

Why?     There's  no  harm 

TOM 

[Checking  her.]     Ah!     I  can  almost  hear  your  father. 

MARIAN 

But  is  there?     One  glass. 

TOM 

You  shouldn't  have  given  in  to  him.     Make  him  do 
what  you  want. 


He  does. 
Does  he? 
Yes. 


MARIAN 

TOM 
MARIAN 


TOM 

Oh,  Marian.  I'm  afraid.  Afraid.  You've  been  mar- 
ried three  months  and  here  are  the  same  thoughtless 
empty-headed,  loud-mouthed  toughs  around  you. 

MARIAN 

They  haven't  been  for  the  last  three  months.  Arthur 
wanted  them  tonight  to  come  just  to  say  "Good-bye." 
That's  all.  After  tonight  we'll  never  see  them  again.  At 
any  rate  verv  rarely. 

[117] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

TOM 

When  you  were  engaged  Arthur  was  never  going  to 
drink  again. 

MARIAN 

No,  Tom.  Drink  too  much.  There's  quite  a  differ- 
ence. 

TOM 

He's  drunk  now. 

MARIAN 

He's  not 

TOM 

Very  nearly.     He'll  be  quite,  before  this  breaks  up. 

MARIAN 

And  why  not?     It's  the  last  time. 

TOM 

[Shaking  his  head.}  He's  been  "last- timing"  ever 
since  I've  known  him.  [Looking  intently  at  her.}  I 
am  afraid,  Marian. 

MARIAN 

[Sharply.}     Don't  be  ridiculous,  Tom. 

TOM 

I'm  sorry  I  said  that.     I  shouldn't  have  come  tonight. 

MARIAN 

I'm  glad  you  came.     I  wanted  you  to  come. 

TOM 

I  felt  as  you  were  going  away — and — I — didn't  know 
when  I'd  see  you  again.  ...  So  I  came.  .  .  .  Now — 
shall  we  dance? 

[118] 


Act  II:    NEW  YORK 

MARIAN 

[Sits:  pouts.]  No.  ...  I  don't  know  whether  I'm 
more  hurt  or  angry  at  this  continual  criticism  of  Arthur. 
It's  so  unfair.  .  .  .  What  has  he  done?  As  thousands  of 
others  do.  .  .  .  And  their  wives  don't  have  delegates 
waiting  in  line  to  condole  with,  or  caution,  or  shake  their 
heads  and  say  "I'm  afraid."  I  want  neither  pity  nor 
advice,  and  I  certainly  don't  want  people  going  about 
being  frightened  for  me.  .  .  .  It's  too  stupid.  ...  I'm 
really  a  little  tired  of  it,  Tom.  .  .  .  [Tapping  her  shoe 
impatiently  on  the  carpet.]  More  than  a  little  angry  .  .  . 
and  quite  a  good  deal  hurt.  .  .  .  First  Madeleine  .  .  . 
then  you.  .  .  .  After  all,  even  though  Madeleine  is  my 
friend,  it  doesn't  give  her  the  privilege  of  criticizing  my 
husband.  .  .  .  That's  mine. — And  I  won't  share  it  with 
anyone.  .  .  .  And  because  you  liked  me 

TOM 

[Simply;  earnestly. ,]      I  love  you,  Marian. 

MARIAN 

If  you  did 

TOM 

I  do. 

MARIAN 

Then  whatever  I  do  should  be  right  because  I  do  it. 

TOM 

It  is. 

MARIAN 

You're  very  difficult  to  argue  with.  ...  I  won't  have 
Arthur  found  fault  with.  .  .  .  Why,  even  you  and  Made- 
leine grudge  me  a  glass  of  champagne  because  Arthur 

[119] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

gave  it  me.  .  .  .  Childish ! — Absurd ! — Friendship  has 
its  rights — yes. — But  it  also  has  its  limits. — And  I  must 
say  that's  the  limit. — One  glass! — You  must  love  me 
a  lot  to  want  to  deprive  me  of  that  little  "drop  of  com- 
fort."— And  I  so  tired. — You  knew  that. — I'm  sur- 
prised, Tom.  Really  surprised. — And  hurt. — Oh,  I 
shall  be  glad  to  get  away  from  all  this  carping  and 
criticism.  ...  At  least  Arthur  makes  no  effort  to  con- 
ceal whatever  he  does.  .  .  .  If  he  exceeds  the  speed-limit 
he  always  does  it  where  a  traffic-policeman  can  see 
him. — And  if  he  wants  to  hit  anyone  he  doesn't  do  it  in 
secret.  Oh,  no.  Everyone  can  see.  .  .  .  His  faults 
are  on  the  surface — and  they're  the  easiest  corrected. 
I'm  tired  of  it  .  .  .  disgusted  with  it.  .  .  .  [Facing 
Tom.]  I'll  hear  nothing  more  against  him  from  anyone. 
[Sees  the  pained  look  in  his  eyes.]  Sorry  Tom.  ...  I 
know  you  mean  it  for  the  best.  ...  It  came  at  the  wrong 
time.   .   .   .   Sorry. 

TOM 

You're  quite  right,  Marian.  I  asked  for  a  snubbing. 
I  deserved  it. 

MARIAN 

No !  No !  Not  a  snubbing  .  .  .  horrid  little  word. — 
And  you  mustn't  take  it  like  that.  Come  take  the  frown 
off  your  face. — Be  jolly. — Laugh. — Come,  smile,  like 
the  Tom  I  like  so  much.  .  .  .  Come.  .  .  .  Smile.  .  .  . 
[Tom  smiles  half-heartedly.] 

You  can  do  much  better  than  that.  .  .  .  Grouchy  old 
dear.  Now  I'll  dance.  [He  puts  his  hand  through  her 
arm.] 

.'      they  go  towards-    the   room   the  band  stops  and 

[120] 


Act  II:    NEW  YORK 

some  of  the  crowd  filter  back.  Ned  and  Jim  go 
to  the  table  as  though  faint.  Etta  and  Maud-Ethel, 
in  the  last  stages  of  boredom  and  fatigue,  seek 
chairs  near  each  other.  .  .  .  Arthur  comes  in  last 
with  Madeleine.] 

ARTHUR 

I  thought  you  were  going  to  dance?      [Glancing  at 
Marian,  then  at  Tom.] 

MARIAN 

I  ana.     The  next. 

ARTHUR 

[Glaring  at  Tom.]      Haven't  cut  that  out  too?     Have 
you? 

TOM 

Oh,  no,  Arthur.  [Forcing  a  genial  smile.] 
[Ned  and  Jim  bring  refreshments  to  Maud-Ethel 
and  Etta.  Madeleine  sits  near  Marian.  Ar- 
thur goes  to  table  and  pours  out  and  drinks  sev- 
eral times.  He  takes  one,  turns  away,  thinks  again 
and  then  as  tho  magnetized  by  the  table  goes  back 
and  has  a  third.  Then  he  fills  a  glass  and,  trying 
to  avoid  spilling  contents  and  at  the  same  time  keep 
a  straight  course  with  a  certain  dignity,  goes  to 
Marian.  .  .  .  Meanwhile  the  following  dialogue 
has  taken  place.] 

JIM 
[Now  quite  mellow,  approaches  Madeleine  surrepti- 
tiously  and  stands   looking   intently   at   her;   she   looks, 
up  and  smiles;  he  smiles  down  at  her.]      Do  you  be- 
lieve in  complexes? 

[121] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

MADELEINE 

[Smiling.]     What  kind? 

JIM 

Any  kind? 

MADELEINE 

Which  one  is  worrying  you? 

JIM 

I  haven't  quite  got  on  to  it  yet.  But  I  know  I  have 
some  from  what  I  hear. 

MADELEINE 

The  most  complex  are  the  really  simple-minded. 

JIM 

Are  they? 

MADELEINE 

Usually.  They  love  to  attach  importance  to  every- 
thing they  do — particularly  to  what  they  dream.  It 
gives  them  a  fictitious  valuation  to  themselves. 

JIM 

That  so?  I  don't  know  much  about  it.  Just  what  I 
hear. — What's  the  inferiority  one?     Sounds  a  bird. 

MADELEINE 

The  inferiority  complex  is  the  cloak  the  inefficient 
wear  to  cover  their  inadequacy. 

JIM 

That  so?  [Disappointed.']  Thought  it  was  some- 
thing quite  different  .  .  .  I've  got  it! 

[122] 


Act  II:    NEW  YORK 

MADELEINE 

Have  you? 

JIM 

Sure.     Breaks  out  all  over  me  when  I  talk  to  you. 
[She  laughs.]     What  am  I  to  do  about  it? 

MADELEINE 

Talk  me  right  out  of  your  system  to  a  sympathetic 
listener. 

JIM 

Couldn't   I  talk  it  out  with  you? 

MADELEINE 

That  would  aggravate  it. 

JIM 

Tell  you  what — I'll  see  your  play  tomorrow  night — 
altho'  I've  a  complex  against  the  theatre. — I'll  go  to 
the  mat  with  it. 

MADELEINE 

How  brave  of  you ! 

JIM 

And  I'm  going  to  talk  about  you  to  everyone — be- 
cause you're  the  first  actress  I've  ever  known  who  takes 
herself  seriously  and  doesn't  drink — or  nothing.  Didn't 
think  there  was  such  a  thing.  I'll  go  tomorrow  night. 
— Mark  me. — I  owe  it  to  myself — and  to  my  complex. 

NED 

[Calling  from  table.]      Jim — Come  here. 

JIM 

[To  Madeleine.]  'S'cuse  me. — Don't  you  do  it! — 
Acting's  not  serious.  .  .  .  Biggest  joke — [Going  up  to 

[123] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

Jim  and  Arthur  at  table.] — Madeleine  hands  me  the 

biggest  laugh 

[Tom  sits  by  Madeleine  and  Marian  and  talks  to 
them.] 

ETTA 

I'm  so  fagged. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

My  slippers  hurt.  [Easing  them  by  almost  taking 
them  off.] 

ETTA 

I  saw  j'ou  dancing  with  Ned.      [Laughs.] 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Isn't  he  terrible?  When  he  doesn't  tread  on  you  he 
tears  things.  [Fingering  portions  of  her  drapery  that 
have  suffered.] 

[Roa-rs  of  laughter  come  from  the  table  at  back, 
Arthur's  predominating.  Marian  looks  at  him 
anxiously.] 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Don't  see  much  change  in  Arthur,  do  you? 

ETTA 

Yes.  .  .  .  He's  noisier. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

I  never  saw  anyone  look  less  married. 

ETTA 

Or  any  one  more  than  Marian. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Arthur's  no  cinch  of  a  husband. 

[124] 


Act  II:    NEW  YORK 

ETTA 

I'll  have   to  give   them   up   when   I   get  back.     Too 
strenuous  for  me. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Funny.     I   was  thinking  that  too. — You  are  flushed. 

ETTA 

Am    I?      [Taking    mirror    from    her    hand    bag    and 
powdering.]     So  I  am.     Your  hair's  all  messy,  dear. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Thank  you,  dear.      [Fingering  her  hair.]      How  nice 
Madeleine  looks  !    So  cool  and  everything  in  its  place. 

ETTA 

Maud-Ethel,   I   tell  you   what.     We're   jazzing   our- 
selves to  bits. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Funny.     I  was  thinking  that  too. 

ETTA 

What  do  you  say  to  giving  it  up  for  a  while? 

MAUD-ETHEL 

I  will.     Will  you? 

ETTA 

This  is  my  last  for  quite  some  time. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

What  I  was  thinking. 

ETTA 

Tom  looks  better  than  I've  seen  him. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Doesn't  seem  to  belong  here. 
[Roar  of  laughter  from  table.] 

[125] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

ETTA 

They  do  wear  you.      [Shivers.] 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Ned's  is  a  horrid  laugh.      [Shivers.] 

ETTA 

1  feel  it  in  my  shoulder-blades.  [Contracts  shoul- 
ders.] 

MAUD-ETHEL 

And  Jim's  stories.  Pitiful.  Laughs  right  on  the 
point. 

ETTA 

I  never  listen  any  more.     I   laugh   loudly  with  him 

and  let  it  go  at  that. 

Maud-Ethel 

And  we  used  to  think  them  so  jolly. 

ETTA 

Madeleine  upsets  me. — We  must  look  frights  beside 
her. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

[Sitting  up.]      I'm  through.  ...  So  asinine. 

ETTA 

Isn't  it?     Look  at  Madeleine !  .  .  . 

ARTHUR 

[Reaches  Marian — holding  her  glass  and  his  own  up 
as  if  performing  a  juggling-feat.]  Here  you  are,  my 
dear.  .  .  .  Take  it  this  time  without  any  argument. 
See?  .  .  . 

MARIAN 

[Hesitates:  Sees  Tom  and  Madeleine  looking  at  her: 
tosnes  her  head  defiantly;  takes  it  with  a  certain  bra- 

[120] 


Act  II:    NEW  YORK 

vado   as   tho  justifying   Arthur.]      Thanks,   Arthur,    I 
will. 

ARTHUR 

Wait  a  minute.  [Holding  her  glass.]  To  our  leav- 
ing America  and  may  it  be  a  long  time  before  we  see  it 
again.      [Drinks.'] 

MARIAN 

Not  too  long,  Arthur. 

ARTHUR 

Can't  be  too  long  for  me.  I'm  sick  of  this  half- 
baked  existing.  We  think  we're  a  hell  of  a  lot  but  we 
don't  look  so  much  to  the  other  countries.  Not  by  a 
damn  sight. 

MARIAN 

[In  great  distress;  trying  to  restrain  him.]  Arthur. 
[Ned  and  Jim  stagger  down  to  him.] 

Arthur 
[Continues  with  a  sweeping  gesture.]     This  is  having 
a  wonderful  time !   ...   It  is !     Wonderful !     Our  idea 
of  enjoying  ourselves!  .  .  .  The  limit!  ...  I'd  like  to 
know  what  the  others  would  think  of  us. 

JIM 

[Genially.]      I  don't  care  what  anyone  thinks  of  us. 

...  It  is  a  wonderful  time  you're  giving  us,  Arthur. 

.  .  .  And  we're  a  wonderful  people  and  don't  you  for- 
get it. 

NED 

Bet  your  life  we  are. 

ARTHUR 

Bah — I've  heard  that  until  I'm  sick  of  it.  .  .  . 
Marian  and  I  are  going  where  people  do  things.  .  .  . 
Big   things.  .  .  .  Not  talking  blasted   business   all  the 

[127] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

time.  How  much  they've  made  and  are  going  to  make. 
.  .  .  Like  my  father.  He's  the  type  they  judge  us  by 
abroad. 

JIM 

Now  they're  going  to  have  you,  Arthur. 

NED 

Sure!     Hurrah   for  America  and  Arthur. 

ARTHUR 

Makes  me  so  damn  sick.     All  this  boasting  and  brag- 
ging- 

JIM 

Well — don't  do  so  much  of  it  then. 


ARTHUR 

Me? 

JIM 

You're 

bragging 

now. 

ARTHUR 

Who  is? 

JIM 

You  are. 

ARTHUR 

About 

what  ? 

JIM 

Everything.  .  .  .  You  can't  hold  your  liquor.     Never 


could.      Bragging- 
And  boasting — 


NED 
JIM 


Perfectly  disgusting. 

NED 

Beastly. 

[128] 


Act  II:    NEW  YORK 

ARTHUR 

[Putting  glass  down  unsteadily  and  facing  them.] 
You  mean  that?     'Cos  if  I  thought  you  did 

JIM 

[Screaming  with  laughter  in  which  Ned  joins.] 
We've  got  his  goat ! 

ARTHUR 

[Trying  to  be  dignified.]  No.  No  goat  about  it. 
I've  never  boasted. 

MARIAN 

[Trying  to  stop  him.]  Arthur — don't  let  them  tease 
you. 

JIM 

Silly  old  ass. 

NED 

Of  course  we  didn't  mean 

ARTHUR 

I've  never  bragged  about  anything.  .  .  .  Nothing  to 
brag  about.  .  .  .  Except  Marian. — Don't  know  why  she 
married  me. 

[Marian  motions  Ned  and  Jim  to  go  away  from  Ar- 
thur. They  go  up  and  out  muttering  contritely 
that  they  really  did  not  mean  anything.] 

ARTHUR 

[To  Marian,  trying  to  get  control  of  himself.]  This 
is  the  last  time.  .  .  .  Never  again.  .  .  .  Last  time. 
Honor.  .  .  .  Making  a  fool  of  myself,  am  I  ? 

MARIAN 

[Hurriedly;  ashamed.]  No,  no.  .  .  .  Of  course  not. 
.  .  .  Now  we'll  start  a  dance. 

[129] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

ARTHUR 

Have  this  one  with  me? 

MARIAN 

Why  don't  you  rest,  just  this  one? 

ARTHUR 


MARIAN 


ARTHUR 


MARIAN 


Ashamed  of  me? 
No,  no,  Arthur. 
I'm  all  right. 
I  know  you  are. 

ARTHUR 

Have  this  one  with  me? 

MARIAN 

I've  promised  it. 

ARTHUR 

Pr-promised  it?     Who  to? 

MARIAN 

Tom. 

ARTHUR 

[Gloomily.']     Oh — is  that  so? 

MARIAN 

We  won't  see  him  again  for  so  long. 

ARTHUR 

Don't  care  if  I  never  see  him. 

MARIAN 

[Trying  to  get  him  to  sit  down.]      Now — Arthur- 
do 

[130] 


Act  II:    NEW  YORK 

ARTHUR 

[Releasing  himself  from  her  rather  roughly.]  NO 
— NO — Let  me  alone.  [Crosses  to  Etta.]  Dance  this 
with  me? 

ETTA 

Oh,  Arthur,  I'm  dead. 

ARTHUR 

Is  that  so?    [To  Maud-Ethel.]    Dance  this  with  me? 

MAUD 

Ned's  put  me  out  of  commission.  See — my  slipper's 
off. 

ARTHUR 

Tha's  so?  Pretty  good  friends  you  are — eh?  Maud- 
Ethel!  Etta!  Good  friends,  all  right.  [Goes  un- 
steadily to  Madeleine.]     Dance  this  with  me? 

MADELEINE 

Why,  certainly.     [Rises.] 

ARTHUR 

You're  all  right,  Madeleine.  Always  were.  The  salt 
of  the  earth,  you  are.  The  others!  Pah!  [Sweeping 
gesture.]  They  think  I'm  'toxicated.  You  don't? 
[Anxiously.]     Do  you? 

MADELEINE 

Of  course  not,  Arthur. 

ARTHUR 

I  like  you  Madeleine.  .  .  .  Always  did.  .  .  .  Real 
pal.  .  .  . 

[Marian  has  gone  to  the  door  and  given  the  signal. 

[131] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

.  .  .  The  dance  music  begins — Arthur  and  Made- 
leine ;  Tom  and  Marian  go  into  the  room  to  dance. 
Ned  and  Jim  plead  with  the  two  girls.  Finally 
they  yield.  Maud-Ethel  replaces  her  slipper — 
Etta  drags  herself  wearily  up  and  they  begin  danc- 
ing in  the  room.  .  .  .  Passing  the  door  Marian 
sees  them  and  dances  in  with  Tom.  .  Then  Arthur 
dances  in  with  Madeleine.  The  bell  rings  long 
and  loudly.] 

JIM 

[Shouting  against   the  band.] 

"Look  out;  here  come  the  damn  police,  the  damn  po- 
lice." 

[Hale  and  Carlton  in  dinner  jackets  come  in. 
Tom  and  Marian  stop  dancing  and  greet  them. 
Jim  goes  io  dance  room  after  a  sign  from  Marian 
and  closes  the  doors.  The  music  sounds  faintly. 
Arthur  is  standing  by  Madeleine  gazing  at  his 
father;  her  hand  is  on  his  forearm  as  tho  restrain- 
ing him.  Jim,  Etta,  Maud-Ethel  and  Ned  are 
standing  still  as  tho  puzzled  and  wondering  what's 
going  to  happen.  Carlton  looks  over  the  whole 
room,  his  eyes  rest  on  Arthur.] 

hale 
[Heartily.]      Here,   don't   let   us   interrupt.  .  .  .  Go 
on.  .  .  .  Dance.  .  .  .   [Takes  Marian  and  jazzes  sing- 
ing.] 

"In  the  mornin',  in  the  evenin' 

Ain't  we  got  fun?" 
[Stops;  laughs.]     John  and  I  dined  together.     I  told 

[132] 


Act  II:    NEW  YORK 

him  I  was  going  to  look  in  and  he'd  better  come  along 
and  give  you  his  blessing.  He  can't  be  at  the  boat. 
Hello,  young  people !  [Xods  to  all  of  the  group  who 
respond  in  their  several  ways.  "How  are  ye?"  "So 
glad,  Mr.  Hale."  .  .  .  "Hello,  Sportsman!"  "How 
d'yer  do."]  ...  [To  Carlton.]  As  nice  a  little  party 
as  anyone  could  wish,  eh? 

CARLTON 

Sure. 

HALE 

Making  hay. 

CARLTON 

And  they'll  be  doing  it  when  the  sun  is  shining. 
Fine.  [To  Marian,  holding  out  his  hand.~\  How  are 
you,  Mrs.  Carlton? 

MARIAN 

Very  well,  Mr.  Carlton. 

CARLTON 

How's  everything  going? 

MARIAN 

Wonderfully. 

CARLTON 

Looks  like  it.    Oh,  well — you  have  plenty  of  time. 

MARIAN 

For  what? 

CARLTON 

Coming  to  me,  bringing  Arthur  by  the  hand,  and  say- 
ing "Here's  exhibit  'A' — Look  at  him." 

MARIAN 

I  wilt 


[133] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

CARLTON 

Sure  you  will.     Don't  put  off  starting  too  long. 

MARIAN 

I  begin  tomorrow  on  the  boat. 

CARLTON 

Good  a  place  as  any — outside  the  "three-mile  limit." 

MARIAN 

And  I'll  finish  it  in  Paris. 

CARLTON 

Fine.  That's  the  place  to  finish  things  in.  Couldn't 
be  better.  You're  starting  right  anyway.  Always  begin 
with  the  hardest  part  of  the  job  if  you  want  to  get  any 
place. 

ARTHUR 

[To  Hale  furiously.]  Why  did  you  bring  him  here? 
[Indicating  his  father.] 

HALE 

Why  not? 

ARTHUR 

If  he  speaks  to  me  I'll  insult  him. 

HALE 

Oh,  come  now.  Where's  the  use  of  that  kind  of  talk? 
[Laughing  cheerfully.]  Let  us  all  be  pleasant  and  jolly 
together. 

ARTHUR 

[Unsteadily;  glowering.]      Just  come  to  spy  on  me. 
.  .  That's  all.  ...  To  spy  on  me. 

[134] 


Act  II:    NEW  YORK 

HALE 

Spy  nothing!  .  .  .  [Ruffling  Arthur's  hair  play- 
fully.] 

ARTHUR 

[Furiously.]  Don't  do  that.  And  don't  laugh  so 
damned  idiotically.  I'm  sick  of  all  this  laughing  and 
noise.  Sick  of  it.  Glad  to  be  out  of  it.  All  this  being 
"Good-fellows."  Anywhere  for  a  drink  and  a  jazz. 
Sick  of  it. 

JIM 

[Trying  to  talk  soberly.]     Meaning  me? 

NED 

[Also  with  an  attempt  at  dignity.]     And  me? 

ETTA 

[To  Maud-Ethel,  anxiously.]  Let's  ask  Tom  to 
take  us  home. 

MAUD-ETHEL 

Just  what  I  was  thinking.  [Goes  to  Tom  and  speaks 
urgently  to  him.] 

ARTHUR 

[Has  turned  to  them  "with  the  sudden  ugliness  of  a 
drunken  man.]     Yes,  both  of  you.     And  all  like  you. 

JIM 

What's  the  idea,  Arthur? 

NED 

What  have  I  done? 

ARTHUR 

I'm  thru  with  this  sort  of  thing.  Thru.  Can't  do  any- 
thing without  a  drink.  Can't  meet  anywhere — but — 
mus'  dance.     I  tell  you  I'm  thru.    I  am.     [Distractedly.] 

[135] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

JIM 

Who  provided  the  liquor? 

NED 

And  drank  most  of  it? 

JIM 

Who  brought  the  band? 

ARTHUR 

I  did.  And  more  fool  me.  [Presses  his  forehead.~\ 
Nightmare.  That's  what  it  is.  Nightmare!  Noise. 
Screaming.  Silly  laughing.  All  jumbled  up  in  here. 
[Almost  shrieking.]      It'll  drive  me  mad. 

[Marian  goes  anxiously  to  him.  Carlton  slowly 
follows.] 

MARIAN 

Arthur ! 

ARTHUR 

[Catches  his  father's  eye  fixed  on  him  contemptu- 
ously.] Don't  you  speak  to  me.  Don't  you  come  near 
me.  You  have  no  right  to  be  here.  I  didn't  send  for 
you.     I'm  free  of  you.     Free.     That's  what  I  am. 

HALE 

[Goes  to  the  other  side  of  him.]  Now  what's  the 
use 

ARTHUR 

Oh,  let  me  be! 

CARLTON 

I  didn't  want  to  come,  believe  me.  Your  father-in- 
law  thought  it  would  be  a  pleasant  little  surprise  for 
you. 

HALE 

Yes,  I  did.     And 

[136] 


Act  II:    NEW  YORK 

ARTHUR 

[Screaming.']  Pleasant?  There's  never  been  a  mo- 
ment in  all  my  life  it's  been  pleasant  to  see  you.  [To 
others.]  My  father!  Brought  me  into  the  world — 
then  let  me  shift  for  myself.  And  this  is  what  he's 
made  of  me !  This !  I  hate  the  sight  of  you.  Every- 
thing about  you.  By  God — I'd  like  to  smash  you! 
Smash  you ! 

[Rushes  at  him.  Marian  gets  between  them;  he  sud- 
denly staggers;  she  drags  a  chair  from  near  her; 
he  falls  into  it  panting  and  holding  his  head  in 
both  of  his  hands.] 

MARIAN 

Ned — Jim [They  go  to  her.]     Take  him  in  there. 

[Pointing  to  door.] 

[T)ie  two  men  become  almost  sober.  They  go  each 
side  of  Arthur  and  help  him  up.] 

JIM 

Come  along. 

NED 

You'll  be  all  right. 

JIM 

Just  lie  down  for  a  bit. 

NED 

Here  we  are. 

JIM 

All  our  fault. 

[Marian  goes  to  the  door  of  Arthur's  room  and 
opens  it.  The  two  men  help  Arthur  into  the  room 
— he  goes  without  protest — in  a  state  of  collapse.] 

[137] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

JIM 

[To  Marian.]     Don't  worry.     We'll  manage. 
[Closes  the  door.] 

MARIAN 

[To  Madeleine.]     Stay  with  me  tonight. 

MADELEINE 

All  right,  Marian. 

MARIAN 

[To  her  father,  indicating  Carlton.]  Take  him 
away.     I'll  see  you  at  the  boat. 

HALE 

Don't  be  upset.  Arthur's  a  little  excited.  And  very 
natural.  Hasn't  he  a  perfect  right  to  be?  The  night 
before?  Sound  as  a  bell  after  a  few  hours'  sleep.  Good- 
night. [Pats  Marian's  shoulder;  she  is  standing  some- 
what dazed  trying  to  collect  her  thoughts;  Hale  goes  to 
Carlton.]     Come  on.     Pity  I  brought  you. 

CARLTON 

Pity  I  let  you.  [Goes  to  Marian.]  Sorry  I  spoilt 
your  party. 

[Marian  makes  a  gesture  for  him  to  go.     She  is  in 

distress.      Both    men    go    into   the    passage    out    of 

sight.] 

[Marian  left  alone  with  Madeleine  gives  way  to  the 

tension;    shivers,    sobs,    then    breaks    down    and    cries. 

Madeleine  takes  her  in  her  arms  and  tries  to  quiet  her; 

she  chatters.]      It  was  terrible!     Terrible!     What  am  I 

going  to  do?     What  can  I  do? — You  won't  leave  me? 

[138] 


Act  II:    NEW  YORK 

MADELEINE 

No,  dear.     I'll  stay  with  you. 

MARIAN 

I'm  frightened.  It's  the  first  time  he's  done  that — 
since  we've  been  married.  .  .  .  He's  like  a  different  hu- 
man being. — I'm  frightened. 

[Ned  and  Jim  come  in  from  Arthur's  room,  closing 
the  door  softly.'] 

JIM 

[To  Marian,  very  quietly.]  He's  asleep.  We  put 
him  to  bed.  Nothing  to  worry  about.  .  .  .  We're  so 
sorry,  Marian. 

NED 

Very,  very  sorry. — He'll  be  quite  all  right. — Often 
been  like  that  with  us. — Won't  know  a  thing  about  it 
when  he  wakes  up. 

JIM 

He'll  be  fine  in  the  morning. 

MARIAN 

Please  go  back  to  the  others.  And — don't  say  any- 
thing. 

JIM 

Not   a   word. 

NED 

Sure. 

JIM 

I  feel  it  is  all  our  fault. 

MARIAN 

Please  go  in.     I'll  follow  you — in  a  few  minutes. 

[139] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

JIM 

All  right.     I  am  sorry. 

NED 

So  am  I.     Very  sorry,  Marian. 
[They  pass  out  and  go  into  ball-room,  the  music  rising 

as    they    open    the    doors    and    fading    when    they 

close  it.] 

MADELEINE 

Why  don't  you  go  to  your  room  and  let  me  make  your 
excuses  ? 

MARIAN 

[Wiping  her  eyes.]  No. — No. — I  must  go  back. 
Bring  me  some  powder.  [Pointing  to  door.]  In  there. 
By  the  mirror. 

[Madeleine  starts  to  go.]     And  the  smelling-salts. 

[Madeleine  goes  into  room.] 

[Marian  goes  to  door  of  Arthur's  room  and  listens; 
opens  it  slightly,  listens,  then  closes  it;  her  eyes 
rest  on  the  refreshment  table;  goes  to  it,  finds  a 
clean  glass.  Searches  for  a  champagne  bottle  with 
some  left  in  it;  finds  one;  fills  the  glass,  drinks, 
coughs,  makes  a  wry  face,  drinks  the  remainder, 
just  as  Madeleine  re-enters  and  goes  to  her  with 
smelling-salts  and  powder.  Marian  holds  up  the 
empty  glass.] 

I  may  be  up  for  hours. 

[Puts  glass  down,  sniffs  salts,  powders  her  face,  then 
with  Madeleine  goes  into  ball-room;  as  she  opens 
the  doors  the  music  swells  and  voices  heard  chant- 
ing. ] 

[140] 


Act  II:    NEW  YORK 

"In  the  morning,  in  the  evening, 
Ain't   we  got   fun!" 

[The  band  crashes  with  every  one  of  the  wonderful 
instruments  used  in  the  delectable  jazz  dance  in 
full  play.  The  beat  of  the  tom-toms,  the  blowing 
of  whistles,  the  mocking  of  the  laughing-horn — all 
unite  in  a  p<ean  of  glorification  of  modern  joyous- 
ness.'j 

"Oh!     Ain't   we   got   fun!" 


END  OF  ACT  II 


[141] 


Act  III:     PARIS 

A  luxuriously-appointed  sitting-room  in  a  Parisian  hotel. 
Faintly  from  the  near-distance  comes  delicately  into 
the  room  some  new  compositians  for  the  modern  ball- 
room, dance-hall  and  cabaret.  The  same  taste  in 
dance-music  seems  to  prevail  amid  all  classes  at- 
tracted by  the  modern  rhythmic  movements  in  all 
civilized  countries.  The  dance-hall  is  the  one  assem- 
bly where  all  meet  on  a  common  basis.  How  common 
is   entirely  point-o'-view. 

Madeleine  Trent  is  standing  near  the  mantelpiece,  her 
eyes  on  some  new  photos  of  Marian,  while  her  ears 
are  titillated  by  the  ubiquitous  measures  that  float  in 
from  the  tireless  band. 

The  telephone-bell  rings  in  the  room. 

Madeleine  goes  to  it  and  takes  off  the  receiver. 

MADELEINE 

Hello — Hello.  Are  you  there?  Yes.  .  .  .  yes.  .  .  . 
This  is  Mr.  Carlton's  room.  .  .  .  No.  .  .  .  They're  not 
in.  .  .  .  Yes,  I  will.  .  .  .  Wait — I'll  get  a  pencil.  .  .  . 
[Looks  around,  finds  pencil  and  pad  on  writing  desk. 
Takes  up  receiver. ]  Yes — yes — Hello.  .  .  .  There's 
such  a  buzz  .  .  .  spell  it  please.  .  .  .  C-a-r-r-o-1 — Tom 
Carrol?    You,    Tom?  .  .  .  This    is    Madeleine — Made- 

[142] 


Act  III:    PARIS 

leine  Trent.  [Laughs.~\  I  didn't  recognize  your  voice 
either.  There's  such  a  buzzing.  Where  are  you?  01). 
Well,  why  not  come  up?  DO.  They  can't  be  long  now. 
They  know  I'm  calling.    Yes.    All  right. 

[Hangs  up  receiver;  smiles  with  real  pleasure,  hum- 
ming the  distant  dance-music  and  dancing  to  it. 
Surveys  the  room.  Goes  to  piano  and  hums  over 
the  music  and  sings  snatches  of  the  songs  she  finds. 
Ring  at  door.  She  calls,  "Come  in. — Oh,  wait. 
I  don't  know  if  it's  open."  Hurries  to  the  door 
and  opens  it.  Enter  Tom.  They  greet  each  other 
warmly.] 

TOM 

What  are  you  doing  here? 

MADELEINE 

Several  of  us  came  over  to  see  the  play  at  the  Vaude- 
ville.    We  fly  back  tomorrow. 

TOM 

You're  still  playing  in  London,  I  see. 

MADELEINE 

Yes.     It  looks  like  going  on  forever. 

TOM 

Isn't  that  splendid? 

MADELEINE 

And  they're  so  nice  to  us. 

TOM 

Why  shouldn't  they  be?     Aren't  we  nice  to  them  in 
New  York? 

[143] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

MADELEINE 

They've  done  so  much  to  make  us  feel  at  home.  I 
love  it. — What  are  you  doing  here  ? 

TOM 

Just  business.  I'm  going  to  Brussels  in  the  morning. 
I  would  have  liked  to  have  seen  Marian — and  Ar- 
thur— to  say  "good-bye." 

MADELEINE 

Haven't  you  seen  them? 

TOM 

Not  Arthur.  He  was  never  up  when  I  called  in  the 
day,  and  always  out  when  I  called  in  the  evening. 

MADELEINE 

Oh?     [Seriously.  ] 

TOM 

Marian  and  I  had  lunch  yesterday  and  looked  at  the 
shops  afterwards — for  awhile. 

MADELEINE 

How  is  she? 

TOM 

Quite  well — I  think. 

MADELEINE 

You  think? 

TOM 

Oh,  yes,  quite  well. 

MADELEINE 

And  happy? 

TOM 

I  suppose  so. 

[144] 


Act  III:    PARIS 

MADELEINE 

That  means  she  isn't? 

TOM 

Well  ...  I  don't  think  she  is,  altogether. 

MADELEINE 

I  was  afraid  she  wouldn't  be. 

TOM 

They'd  better  have  remained  in  the  United  States. 

MADELEINE 

I  see.  [Nods  under  standingly.]  I  have  had  a  few 
letters  from  her.  Quite  incoherent.  Nothing  about  her- 
self— really.  Nothing  I  wanted  to  know.  Always 
promising  to  come  to  London.  But  she's  not  left  Paris, 
has  she? 

TOM 

No. 

MADELEINE 

Why  do  they  stay  here? 

TOM 

Her  husband  likes  it. 

MADELEINE 

Out  every  night? 

TOM 

I  guess  so.     Every  night  I've  been  here. 

MADELEINE 

What  a  shame !    What  a  great  shame ! 

[145] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

TOM 

Yes.     It  is. 

MADELEINE 

[Thinks.']  I  adore  Marian.  You  used  to — didn't 
you? 

TOM 

[Softly.1]     Yes. 

MADELEINE 

And  she  was  always  talking  of  you. 
[Tom  gets  up  and  walks  about.] 

[Madeleine  goes  to  him;  puts  her  arm  thru  his.] 
You  loved  her? 

TOM 

Yes. 

MADELEINE 

And   you   do   still? 

TOM 

[Hoarsely  after  a  pause.]  Yes — yes.  I  do.  I  do. 
I'd  give  the  rest  of  my  life  if  I  could  know  she  was 
out  of  here — back  home.  Anywhere,  away  from  this 
cursed,  damnable,  destructive  living  Destructive  bodily 
and  mentally. 

MADELEINE 

Does  she  like  it? 

TOM 

No.  I'm  sure  she  doesn't.  Down  in  her  soul  she 
hates  it.     She  must. — Oh,  what's  the  use? 

MADELEINE 

Just  drifts  with  Arthur? 

TOM 

That's  it.     Just  drifts  .  .  .  with  him. 

[146] 


Act  III:    PARIS 

MADELEINE 

No  influence  over  him? 

TOM 

[Shakes  his  head.~\      No. 

MADELEINE 

I  was  afraid  when  they  married. 

TOM 

I  knew.     I  knew! 

MADELEINE 

Yet  I  always  hoped  she  might .  He  was  so  charm- 
ing, so  agreeable,  so  amusing — when  he  was  himself. 

TOM 

That  wasn't  himself.  His  real  self.  His  real  self  is 
sitting  now  in  some  den.  Shouting  to  drown  the  racket 
.  .  .  drinking  to  keep  up  his  flagging  spirits  and  danc- 
ing as  tho  that  was  the  be-all  and  end-all  of  life. 
And  Marian  sits  with  him.  God !  What  a  wretched, 
wretched  waste ! 

MADELEINE 

Why  doesn't  she  take  him  back  to  America?  She'd 
have  some  chance  there.     She  has  none  here. 

TOM 

That's  what  I  begged  her  to  do  when  she  was  with 
me  yesterday.  I  entreated  her.  But,  no.  "When  he 
wants  to,"  she  said.  "When  he  wants  to."  [Stops  in 
front  of  Madeleine.]  Back  in  my  mind  I  have  a  hor- 
rible fear.     That  she  likes  it!     Doesn't  want  to  go. 

[147] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

MADELEINE 

Oh,  no. 

TOM 

It's  in  her  blood.     In  her  mind. 

MADELEINE 

It  can  never  be  in  her  soul,  Tom.     I  know  Marian. 

TOM 

How  long  can  the  soul  last  against  contamination  like 
this?  It's  such  a  waste.  Such  a  waste.  [Sits  with  his 
hands  clenched,  his  head  lowered.}  Horrid!  Brutal! 
Marian !     Marian ! 

MADELEINE 

[Goes  to  him,  puts  her  hand  on  his  shoulder.}  Don't 
give  up  hope.  I  don't.  Somehow  I  can't  think  of  Ma- 
rian as — as [Breaks  off.] 

TOM 

That's  it.  Neither  could  I.  Until  yesterday.  She's 
changed.  Almost  unrecognizable.  Things  she  says — 
laughs  at.  In  just  a  few  months.  That  beast!  That 
beast!    I'd  like  to [Under  his  breath.}    Beast! 

MADELEINE 

Ssh— Ssh— ! 

TOM 

[Abruptly.}     I'll  go.     If  I  met  him  I  might — I  might 

Better  I  don't.     Say  "Good-bye"  to  Marian  for 

me — not  before  him.     And  do  what  you  can,  will  you? 

MADELEINE 

Yes,  Tom.     I'll  do  what  I  can. 

[148] 


Act  III:    PARIS 

TOM 

[Pressing  his  forehead.]  Seeing  her  has  taken  the 
heart  out  of  me.  I  don't  want  to  stay  abroad.  I  want 
to  go  back.  Creep  away  where  no  one  knows  me.  Hide. 
[Suddenly;  fiercely.]  It  wouldn't  hurt  so  much  if  she 
were  happy.  But  to  see  her  smile  with  no  light  in  her 
eyes:  to  hear  her  laugh  with  no  music  in  her  voice. 
[Breaks  off  suddenly.]     Good-bye,  Madeleine — I'll  see 

you   [groping  for  door]    sometime 

[As  he  opens  the  door  the  dance-music  swells.]     Bah 

— that  petty,  damnable,  insane [Bangs  door  behind, 

him;  the  music  becomes  fainter  but  is  still   quite  dis- 
tinct.] 

[Madeleine  stands  thinking.  She  is  very  much  moved 
and  distressed.  She  looks  after  him,  then  goes  to 
writing  desk,  sits  and  starts  to  write  a  note  when 
the  outer  door  opens  and  shuts.  Marian  enters. 
She  is  more  than  a  little  intoxicated  and  gives  way 
to  mirthless  laughter,  crying,  hysteria,  anger,  weak- 
ness as  the  moods  strike  her.] 

MARIAN 

[Staggers  down  to  Madeleine.]  Sorry  I'm  late. 
[Kisses  her.]  Couldn't  get  away.  [Throws  off  her 
cloak.] 

MADELEINE 

[Shocked  at  Marian's  changed  appearance  and  her 
condition:     faintly.]     Where's  Arthur? 

MARIAN 

Don't  know. 

[149] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

MADELEINE 
Oh? 

MARIAN 

Went  off.  Left  me.  Some  of  the  others  brought  me 
back.  We've  had  an  awful  row.  Awful.  He  was  just 
horrid.  He  shouted  and  bawled.  Rushed  away.  Damn 
rotten  of  him. 

[Goes  to  table  and  pours  herself  a  drink.] 

MADELEINE 

[Looking  at  her  in  horror  and  pity.  She  can  hardly 
believe  it's  the  same  Marian.]  What  did  you  quarrel 
about  ? 

MARIAN 

It's  been  coming.  Had  to  be  sometime.  Can't  keep 
the  clip  we've  been  going  up  all  the  time.  Should  say 
not.  [Drinks.]  I  said  I  would  come  home  once. 
Wanted  to  see  you  as  much  as  anything.  And  I'm  so 
tired  of  it.  So  tired.  [Sits  back  on  couch.]  Hate  the 
sight  of  them.  Same  faces  every  night.  Same  beastly, 
silly  jokes.  Same  jazz.  And  all  of  us  drunk.  We  can 
do  tbat  in  New  York.  Why  come  to  Paris  ?  My  head ! 
It  throbs  and  throbs.     [Closes  her  eyes.] 

[Madeleine  goes  to  her  and  puts  her  hand  on  her 
forehead.  Marian  opens  her  eyes  and  smiles  up  at 
her.] 

Nice  Madeleine.  Cool  Madeleine.  Hand  cool.  Head 
cool.     Life  cool.     Lucky  Madeleine.     [Closes  her  eyes.] 

MADELEINE 

Let  me  make  you  comfortable. 

[150] 


Act  III:    PARIS 

MARIAN 

No.  Don't  want  to  be  comfortable.  Just  lie  here  for 
a  bit.  All  right  in  a  minute.  If  only  my  head  would 
stop  lifting  up  and  down.  Your  head  ever  lift  up  and 
down?  Of  course  not.  Too  cool.  Nice  Madeleine. 
What  are  you  doing  in  Paris? 

MADELEINE 

I  came  to  see  the  play  at  the  Vaudeville. 

MARIAN 

Good  ? 

MADELEINE 

Very  funny.  But  why  always  the  same?  Three  acts 
of  undiluted  nastiness.     Why? 

MARIAN 

So  much  of  it  all  around,  I  suppose.  Always  have  a 
few  plays  like  that  in  New  York.  We  are  nasty. 
Enough  of  us.  So  they  write  plays  for  us.  Yo» 
wouldn't  play  in  'em? 

MADELEINE 

No.    I'd  rather  give  up  the  theatre. 

MARIAN 

Sure.     Anything  in  that  glass? 

MADELEINE 

Don't  you  think ? 

MARIAN 

No,  I  don't.      [Sharply;  gets  up;  fills  glass.] 

MADELEINE 

Marian ! 

[151] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

MARIAN 

It's    all    right.     I'm    all    upset.      Can't    bear    being 

shouted    at    and    abused — and [Drinks.~\       Had 

supper  ? 

MADELEINE 

I'm  going  to  presently. 

MARIAN 

Have  it  here. 

MADELEINE 

They're  waiting  for  me  in  the  restaurant  downstairs. 

MARIAN 

Who  are? 

MADELEINE 

The  manager  and  the  author  of  the  play. 

MARIAN 

Cut  them  out  and  stay  with  me. 

MADELEINE 

I  can't  very  well  do  that. 

MARIAN 

Why  not? 

MADELEINE 

I  came  over  with  them. 

MARIAN 

Don't  make  any  difference. 

MADELEINE 

Now  let  me  loosen  you. 

[152] 


Act  III:     PARIS 

MARIAN 

I  don't  want  to  be  loosened.     And  I  don't  want  to  be 
left  alone.     You've  got  to  stay,  Madeleine. 

MADELEINE 

I  can't.    Really,  I  can't. 

MARIAN 

Why  not? 

MADELEINE 

They  brought  me. 

MARIAN 

They  see  you  every  day.  First  time  I've  seen  you 
since  I  left  New  York.  [Laughs  foolishly.]  Seems 
about  ten  years  ago — since  left  N'york.  Ten  years. — 
Loved  it  at  first.     Hate  it  now.     Wish  I  was  back. 

MADELEINE 

Why  don't  you  go  back? 

MARIAN 

Arthur  won't.     Wanted  him  to  tonight.     Swore  at  me 
— in  public.     Nice,  wasn't  it?     Swore! 

MADELEINE 

How  long  will  you  let  him  go  on  like  that? 

MARIAN 

Let  him?     I  have  no  influence  over  him.     Does  as  he 

likes. 

MADELEINE 

Oh,  Marian  !     Marian ! 

MARIAN 

What? 

[153] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

MADELEINE 

I  hoped  everything  would  be  so  different. 

MARIAN 

Did  ye?  Suppose  ye  did.  Well,  it  isn't.  [Thinking; 
chuckling  to  herself.]  I  was  going  to  reform  him.  Only 
drink  now  and  again — when  he  wanted  to — like  father. 
Well,  he  does.  Not  like  father,  though.  Arthur 
wants  it  all  the  time.  Takes  it,  too.  He's  reformed 
me.  Someone  had  to  be  reformed.  It's  me.  [Fin- 
ishes glass.  The  music  rises:  she  dances  to  it.~\ 
Arthur's  idea.  Took  our  suite  near  the  private  dancing- 
rooms.  Have  a  dance  there  most  every  night.  We 
generally  drop  in  before  we  turn  in  if  we  know  who's 
giving  it.  Don't  seem  so  bad  when  you're  wobbling 
about.  Can't  think  while  you're  doing  it — or  feel. 
[Sings.] 

"In  the  morning,  in  the  evening, 
Ain't  we   got  fun." 

[Suddenly  breaks  off  and  sinks  on  couch:  glass  slips 
from  her  fingers;  she  presses  her  head.]     Oh! 

MADELEINE 

[Takes  up  glass.  Puts  it  on  table.  Takes  Marian's 
hands.]     Lie  back,  dear.     Relax. 

MARIAN 

I  wish  my  head  would  stop.  Do  you  know,  Made- 
line, the  louder  the  band  pla}\s  the  sadder  I  get.  I 
feel  as  tho  I  were  stretched  on  a  cross.  .  .  .  Don't  leave 
me,  Madeleine. 

[154] 


Act  III:    PARIS 

MADELEINE 

I  must. 

MARIAN 

I  thought  we  were  friends. 

MADELEINE 

We  are. 

MARIAN 

Wouldn't  think  it.     You  go  away  and  leave  me  to  my-* 
self.     Fine  friend.     Put  the  others  before  me. 

MADELEINE 

I'm  their  guest,  Marian.     Do  be  reasonable. 

MARIAN 

I  don't  want  to  be  alone.  [Shivers.]  I  got  the  hor- 
rors. He  glared  at  me  tonight  as  tho  he'd  like  to  kill 
me.  Let  him.  What  a  muck!  Won't  they  laugh  at  me 
back  home !  I  was  going  to  do  so  much.  Hell  of  a  lot 
I've  done.  Ha!  [Closes  her  eyes;  mutters;  opens  them. 
Looks  at  Madeleine  first  with  both  eyes,  then  with 
one.]  You  do  look  funny  standing  there — so  solemn. 
Don't  look  so  solemn.  Makes  you  look  old.  Not  the 
same  bright,  happy  Madeleine,  up  to  any  mischief. 
You're  not  the  same.     I'm  not  either.     Am  I? 

MADELEINE 

No,  Marian,  you're  not. 

MARIAN 

Don't  like  me  so  much  as  you  did.     Do  you? 

MADELEINE 

[Impulsively  kneels  down  beside  Marian  and  puts  her 
arms  around  her.]     Every  bit  as  much,  Marian.     Every 

[155] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

bit.     But  you  make  me  ache.     Oh,  Marian,  throw  it 
up.     Go  back.     This  will  only  be  a  wretched  dream.     A 
nightmare.     You'll  wake  out  of  it.     Don't  let  this  city 
beat  you.     Don't  let  it.     Throw  it  off.     Go  back.     I  do 
like  you  just  as  much.     Go  back,  Marian. 

MARIAN 

He  wouldn't. 

MADELEINE 

Then  go  back  alone.     He'll  follow  you. 

MARIAN 

He  wouldn't. 

MADELEINE 

Go  back  anyway. 

MARIAN 

Don't  want  to  leave  him.     Get  laughed  at.     Every- 
body laugh  at  me.     No.     Couldn't  stand  that. 

MADELEINE 

What  if  they  did?     What  does  it  matter? 

MARIAN 

Couldn't  stand  it. 

MADELEINE 

You'd  bring  him  to  his  senses  if  you  left  him. 

MARIAN 

No,  I  wouldn't.     They're  all  muddled.     Never  draws 
a  sober  breath  now.     Never. 

MADELEINE 

If  only  you  hadn't  come  here. 

[156] 


Act  III:    PARIS 

MARIAN 

Wish  to  God  I  hadn't.  My  fault.  Too  sure  of  my- 
self. He'd  have  gone  anywhere  I  wanted  him  to  then. 
Loved  me,  then.  Now  he'll  do  nothing  I  want.  Hates 
me.  [Suddenly  breaks  down  and  cries.]  Oh,  I'm  so 
unhappy.  So  miserable.  [Clings  to  her.]  Don't  leave 
me,  Madeleine.     Don't  leave  me. 

MADELEINE 

I  wish  I  didn't  have  to,  but  I  must.  Come,  let  me  put 
you  to  bed. 

MARIAN 

[Shivers  and  cries.]      I  don't  want  to  be  put  to  bed. 

MADELEINE 

I'll  come  around  the  first  thing  in  the  morning. 

MARIAN 

Don't  you  dare.  That's  the  only  time  I  sleep.  Can't 
sleep  when  it's  dark.  When  the  sun  comes  streaming  in 
I  sleep  for  hours.     Hours.     Half  the  day. 

[Madeleine  rises.]     Going? 

MADELEINE 

I   must. 

MARIAN 

All  right.      [Sullenly.] 

MADELEINE 

I'll  just  stay  awhile  and  come  back. 

MARIAN 

You  needn't. 


[157] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

MADELEINE 

That's  what  I'll  do.  Put  in  an  appearance,  make  an 
excuse  and  come  back.  I'll  stay  then  as  long  as  you 
want  me  to. 

MARIAN 

Leave  me  now  in  all  this  and  I  never  want  to  see  you 
again. 

MADELEINE 

Just  close  your  eyes  and  rest,  and  I'll  be  back  before 
you  have  time  to  miss  me. 

MARIAN 

Miss  you?  /  won't  miss  you.  Go  back  to  your  friends 
and  don't  come  near  me  again. 

MADELEINE 

[Goes  to  door — opens  it — the  music  swells.]  I  won't 
be  long.     You'll  see. 

MARIAN 

Madeleine!     Are  you  going  to  put  me  to  bed? 

MADELEINE 

Why,  of  course.      [Closes  door.     Goes  to  her."] 

MARIAN 

No.  Changed  my  mind.  I'll  stay  here.  You  will 
come  back? 

MADELEINE 

[Joyfully  putting  her  arm  around  her.~\  In  just  a 
few  minutes.     Now  come. 

MARIAN 

Let  me  alone.  [Goes  to  couch.]  You  won't  come 
back  if  there's  any  fun.     I  know  people  now.     All  right. 

[158] 


Act  III:    PARIS 

Stay  and  have  it.  [Her  eyes  rest  on  the  bottles.]  I'll 
have  my  own.  [Staggers  to  the  table  and  takes  up 
glass.] 

MADELEINE 

No,  Marian.  No  more.  [Marian  glares  at  her.] 
It's  so  bad  for  your  head. 

MARIAN 

You  think  I'm  drunk,  don't  you? 

MADELEINE 

[In  distress.]     Oh,  my  dear! 

MARIAN 

Well,  I  am.  Every  bit  of  me  except  the  part  I  want 
to  stupify.  [Presses  her  hand  on  her  forehead.]  It 
aches  but  it  lives — My  eyes  won't  focus.  My  feet  won't 
obey  me.  But  my  brain  throbs  on  in  a  sober  panic.  .  .  . 
It's  terrible  not  to  be  able  to  stop  thinking. 

MADELEINE 

Come.     Lie  down.     [Helps  Marian  to  couch.] 

MARIAN 

[Sinks  onto  couch  and  lies  back.]  My  nerves  seem 
strung  on  little  hot  wires.     [Closes  her  eyes.] 

MADELEINE 

[Strokes  Marian's  temples.]     Tom  was  here. 

MARIAN 

Tom?     When? 

MADELEINE 

Just  before  you  came  in. 

[159] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

MARIAN 

Why  didn't  he  wait? 

MADELEINE 

He  did.  As  long  as  he  could.  He's  off  early  in  the 
morning.     He  asked  me  to  say  "Good-bye"  for  him. 

MARIAN 

I  wish  he'd  waited.     I'd  have  liked  to  see  Tom. 

MADELEINE 

[Continues  to  soothe  Marian  until  she  sleeps;  then 
bends  down  and  kisses  her;  creeps  quickly  to  door,  opens 
it  and  goes  out,  closing  it  quickly  after  her.  The  blare 
of  the  music  screams  into  the  room  as  the  door  opens: 
Marian  springs  up,  stands  distractedly,  swaying  back- 
ward and  forward,  bewildered;  mutters  to  herself :  then 
qoes  to  the  phone;  takes  off  the  receiver.]  I  want  the 
Hotel  Crillon— Crillon  ! 

[Waits,  nods  her  head  and  sways  her  body  to  the 
music]  Is  that  the  Crillon? — Is  it?  Oh — I  want  to 
•peak  to  Mr.  Carrol— Mr.  Tom  Carrol.  T-O-M— 
C-a-rrol !     That's  what  I  said.     All  right. — Please. 

[IV aits  again,  the  music  swells  and  she  nods  and  moves 
to  it.]  Hello!  That  you,  Tom?  Marian!  Yes.  Why 
iidn't  you  wait?  But — why  didn't  you?  Just  after 
vou  went.  The  moment  after.  No — she's  gone.  She's 
left  me.  Yes.  I  don't  know.  The  people  she  came 
with.  No.  I'm  all  alone.  And  I'm  so  wretched.  Yes, 
I  am.  Everything's  all  wrong,  Tom.  Yes,  it  is.  Got 
up  and  left  me.  I  don't  know  where  he's  gone.  I 
didn't  want  to  stay  out  tonight.     I  wanted  to  go  home. 

[160] 


Act  III:    PARIS 

I  knew  Madeleine  was  coming.  And  I  thought  you 
might.  Yes.  I  wish  you'd  waited.  I'm  most  unhappy. 
I  know.  He's  horrid  to  me  now.  What  can  I  do?  Oh, 
but  you  know,  how  could  I  ?  Madeleine's  been  saying 
that.  But  it  would  look  so  cowardly  running  away. 
Yes,  it  would.  Oh,  yes,  it  would.  It's  my  fault — my 
fault  entirely.  Has  been  from  the  first.  Yes,  it  has. 
I  thought  I  could  make  something  of  him.  Yes,  I  did. 
He's  made  something  of  me.  Yes,  he  has.  I  know.  I 
saw  it  in  your  face  yesterday.  Yes,  I  did.  I  felt  it  in 
the  way  you  spoke  to  me.  Yes,  I  did.  You  seemed 
ashamed  of  me.  Yes,  you  did.  And  I  feel  ashamed  of 
myself.  Always  ashamed  now.  Yes,  I  am.  [Looking 
at  bottles.]  Quite  a  good  deal.  Yes,  I  have.  And  I'm 
going  to  have  more.  Then  I  don't  feel  so  miserable. 
I'm  so  wretched  now  I  could  kill  myself.  Yes,  I  could. 
I've  got  the  horrors  to-night.  All  alone.  Yes.  And  my 
head.  It's  spinning.  The  worry  and  misery  cf  every- 
thing. No!  No!  No!  I  can't!  I'd  just  be  awake 
staring  at  nothing.  Thinking.  Regretting  things. 
Serves  me  right.  I've  treated  everyone  badly  for  him. 
Yes,  I  have.  I  treated  you  dreadfully.  Yes,  I  did.  I 
didn't  know  how  badly  until  yesterday.  You  looked  so 
sorry  for  me.  And  so  ashamed  for  me.  I  could  have 
cried.  [Her  voice  begins  to  break;  tears  come  in  her 
eyes.]  You  don't  know  how  I  felt  seeing  you.  I  hate 
the  people  I'm  going  with.  I  do.  Hate  them.  And  they 
hate  me.  Yes,  they  do.  Arthur  hates  me.  Yes,  he 
does.  [Crying  bitterly.]  I  wish  I  were  dead.  If  this 
goes  on  I'll  kill  myself — really  I  will.     I've  got  to  such 

[161] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

a  state  now  that  if  I  see  Arthur  looking  at  me  as  he 

did  to-night  I'll— I'll 

[Arthur  bursts  into  the  room:  his  left  hand  is  ban- 
daged in  black.] 

MARIAN 

[She  gives  a  cry.~\     Oh! 
[Hangs  up  the  receiver.] 

ARTHUR 

I  In  an  ugly  drunken  mood.]  Who  are  you  talking 
to?  [Bangs  the  door  and  stands  glaring  unsteadily  at 
her.] 

MARIAN 

Tom. 

ARTHUR 

What  were  you  saying  about  me? — I  heard  my  name. 
— What  were  you  saying? 

MARIAN 

Telling  him  how  you  treated  me  tonight. 

ARTHUR 

Oh,  were  you?  What  business  is  it  of  his?  [She 
■walks  away,  crying.]  Lunched  with  him  yesterday, 
didn't  you? 

MARIAN 

Yes,  I  did.     [Sinks  back  onto  couch.] 

ARTHUR 

I  know  you  did.  The  Hayes  saw  you  and  told  me. 
Why  didn't  you  tell  me? 

MARIAN 

I  didn't  think  to. 

[162] 


Act  III:    PARIS 

ARTHUR 

What? 

MARIAN 

I  didn't  think  of  it. 

ARTHUR 

Don't  have  him  around  because  I  won't  stand  for 
it.     See  ? 

MARIAN 

He's  going  away  tomorrow. 

ARTHUR 

That's  all  right.     Let  him  stay  away. 

MARIAN 

All  right. 

ARTHUR 

Sorry  you  didn't  marry  him.     Ain't  you? 

MARIAN 

He  wouldn't  treat  me  the  way  you  have. 

ARTHUR 

I'm  sorry  you  didn't,  too,  if  it  comes  to  that.  Always 
making  a  fuss.  I've  given  you  a  good  time.  Haven't  I  ? 
What  are  you  kicking  about?  My  friends  not  good 
enough  for  you.  Everything  I  do  wrong.  I'm  sick  of 
it.  Sick  of  it.  I'm  going  to  do  as  I  like.  D'ye  hear? 
Just  as  I  like. 

MARIAN 

Don't — don't  shout  at  me,  Arthur.  You've  always 
done  as  you  liked. 

ARTHUR 

And  I'm  going  to  keep  on  doing  it.  See?  What's 
the  matter  with   staying  out   tonight?     You've   done   it 

[163] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

before.      Why  make   a  grand-stand   play   about  tonight 
in  front  of  mjr  friends  ? 

MARIAN 

I  wanted  to  see  Madeleine.  She's  been  here.  And  I 
don't  feel  well.     My  head  aches  so. 

ARTHUR 

You  drink  too  much,  that's  what  the  matter  with  you. 
You  mix  everything. — Stop  it.  D'ye  hear?  Make  an 
old  woman  of  you. 

MARIAN 

All  right.  Let  us  both  stop  it.  Shall  we,  Arthur? 
I  will.    Will  you? 

ARTHUR 

No,   I   won't. — I'm  used  to  it. — Don't  hurt  me.   .  .  . 

But  you /  A  couple  of  glasses  and  you  laugh  and  cry 

like  a  crazy  woman. — Cut  it  out.  .  .  .  Not  before  my 
friends.  Made  me  sick  tonight  the  way  ye  carried  on. — 
Crying  as  tho  I  beat  you.  If  ye  don't  like  my  friends 
stay  home. — Good  job,  too. 

MARIAN 

[Anxious  to  conciliate  him.]  All  right,  Arthur.  I 
won't  make  a  fuss  again.  .  .  .  Sorry  I  did  tonight.  .  .  . 
But  I  did  feel  very  badly. — I  do  now.  I  suppose  it  is 
because  I  mix  things.  I'll  stop.  .  .  .  And  I  won't  ask 
you  to.  I'll  never  ask  you  not  to  do  anything  again. 
Everything  you  do  will  be  right  if  only  you  will  take  me 
back  to  America.   .   .   .   Please  take  me  back  to  America. 

ARTHUR 

When  I'm  good  and  ready. 

[164] 


Act  III:    PARIS 

MARIAN 

[Shivering  in  terror.]  No. — Now.  As  soon  as  you 
can  get  a  passage.  Now!  There's  something  evil  here. 
In  the  way  we  live.  It's  evil.  Do  let  us  go  back  to  our 
old  jolly  life  where  we  laughed  and  played  and  loved 
each  other.  Will  you? — You  don't  love  me — now.  Do 
you? 

ARTHUR 

No,  I  don't.    And  it's  your  own  fault. 

MARIAN 

Perhaps  it  is. — I'm  sure  it  is. — But  give  me  a  chance. 
— Away  from  all  this.  .  .  .  Your  love  will  come  back. 
...  I  can't  look  my  best  or  be  my  best  in  this  kind  of 
life.  I  can't.  ...  I'm  unhappy  all  the  time. — Take  me 
back.  .  .  .  We'll  have  good  times  again. — And  we'll  for- 
get all  this.  .  .  .  We'll  be  just  as  we  used  to  be,  Arthur. 
.  .  .  It's  as  tho  some  hideous  thing  has  come  between 
us.  .  .  .  You  were  so  nice  to  me  until  we  came  here.  .  .  . 
Now  we  hardly  see  each  other — except  with  a  lot  of 
people. 

ARTHUR 

They're  my  friends.  And  I  like  them.  If  you  don't 
you  can  stay  away. 

MARIAN 

Don't  say  those  things.  .  .  .  Don't  speak  to  me  so 
roughly.  .  .  .  Oh — my  head  hurts  so — I  can't  say  just 
what  I  want  to.  .  .  .  But  I  feel  somehow  as  tho  I  were 
pleading  for  my  life.  .  .  .  Because — because — I  can't 
go  on  living  like  this!  .  .  .  I'd  rather  end  it.  I'd  rather 
end  it.     I'd  rather  end  it.     [Cries  bitterly.] 

[165] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

ARTHUR 

That's  champagne-and-whiskey  talking.  .  .  .  Make 
anyone  feel  like  that.  You  stick  to  one  or  the  other. 
...  Or  nothing.  That's  the  best  for  you.  .  .  .  Noth- 
ing. 

MARIAN 

[She  shudders  at  his  utter  callousness.  Then  after  a 
few  minutes.]     You  won't  take  me  back  to  America? 

ARTHUR 

When  I  feel  like  it.     I  don't  now. 

MARIAN 

All  right.  I  don't  know  what  is  going  to  happen  to 
me.  [Sinks  back  on  couch.]  The  whole  world  is  tum- 
bling around  me.     [Closes  her  eyes.] 

ARTHUR 

Go  back  to  America!  Not  me.  Just  when  I'm  settled 
here.  Know  the  right  people.  .  .  .  It's  a  wonderful 
city — Paris.  New  York's  a  village  compared  to  it.  Lot 
of  tough  hicks.  .  .  .  Here  you  can  see  real  life.  .  .  . 
Don't  care  if  I  never  see  New  York  again.  .  .  .  What 
they  think  is  enjoying  themselves  !  .  .  .  No  wonder  they 
laugh  at  us.  .  .  .  Sneaking  our  drinks  in  public.  Boast- 
ing about  it  in  private.  .  .  .  Can't  talk  to  a  fellow  five 
minutes  before  he  begins  bragging  about  what  liquor 
he's  got  and  what  he's  going  to  get.  ...  I  was  the 
same.  .  .  .  Hicks,  that's  what  we  are.  Here  they  drink 
like  gentlemen  and  never  say  a  word  about  it.  .  .  .  Part 
of  their  lives.  .  .  .  This  country  isn't  run  by  a  lot  of 

[166] 


Act  III:    PARIS 

• 

old  women  in  trousers  telling  you  what  you  should  and 
what  you  shouldn't  do.  .  .  .  Here  they  live  free  and 
open  and  are  glad  to  see  you.  .  .  .  Good  times !  .  .  . 
We  don't  know  what  they  mean.  Damned  lot  of  hypo- 
crites we  are.  .  .  .  Never  knew  what  'fine  living  was 
until  I  came  here.  .  .  .  Look  thru  the  streets  of  Paris ! 
Is  there  a  "don't"-sign  anywhere?  .  .  .  Greatest  peo- 
ple on  earth  the  French.  Give  me  Paris  every  time.  I'd 
like  to  live  and  die  here.  So  just  make  up  your  mind  to 
that.     We're  not  going  home — yet.     See? 

MARIAN 

[Dully.']     All  right.     Don't  shout  at  me. 

ARTHUR 

So  make  the  best  of  it.  .  .  .  Stick  to  a  glass  or  two 
of  champagne  and  be  satisfied.  .  .  .  Cut  out  the  hard 
stuff.  You  haven't  got  the  head  for  it.  .  .  .  Then  you'll 
be  all  right.  .  .  .  And  don't  be  so  stand-off-ish  with  my 
friends.  Get  to  know  'em  real  well  and  you'll  be  crazy 
about  'em.  .  .  .  You  used  to  like  a  bit  of  fun. 

MARIAN 

[Shudders.]  Not  this  kind.  ...  I  never  knew  it — 
until  I  came  here. 

ARTHUR 

And  you  never  will  after  you  get  back  home.  So 
what  the  hell!  ...  Do  as  the  others  do.  .  .  .  Don't 
hurt  anyone.  .  .  .  Not  married  people.  .  .  .  Now  put 
on  your  wrap.  The  car's  outside.  I  came  back  for  some 
money.   .  .  .   Didn't  intend  asking  you  again.     But  it's 

[1GT] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

all  right  now.  .  .  .  I'll  forget  it.  .  .  .  Come  along. 
We'll  fix  up  your  head  at  a  drug-store.  .  .  .  And  for 
God's  sake  don't  cry  all  over  the  place.  .  .  .  It's  all 
right.  .  .  .   Nov/.  .  .  .  Come  on. 

MARIAN 

No.     I'm  not  going  out. 

ARTHUR 

Oh,  ye're  not? 

MARIAN 

No.  And  I'm  not  going  to  meet  those  people  again. 
Every  night  we  go  to  a  noisier,  dirtier  place.  Every 
week  your  friends  get  worse. 

ARTHUR 

What's  that? 

MARIAN 

I've  done  everything  you  wanted  me  to.  I've  lost  my 
looks,  my  spirit,  but  not  quite  lost  my  decency.  ...  I 
am  not  going  with  you  to  those  places  again.  ...  I'm 
going  back  home  on  the  first  steamer. 

ARTHUR 

You  mean  that? 

MARIAN 

Yes.     I'll  see  about  it  tomorrow. 

ARTHUR 

Suits  me. 

MARIAN 

You  can  follow  me  when  that  suits  you. 

ARTHUR 

Bet  your  life  I  won't  until  it  does. 

[168] 


Act  III:    PARIS 

MARIAN 

So.  .  .  .  This  is  what  our  marriage  has  come  to? 

ARTHUR 

Whose  fault  is  it? 

MARIAN 

Mine,  I  suppose. 

ARTHUR 

Bet  your  life  it  is.  You  knew  what  /  was  like.  I 
made  no  pretense.     Did  I  ? 

MARIAN 

No.  But  I — thought — it — would — be — different.  .  .  . 
So  different. 

ARTHUR 

That's  the  trouble  with  women — always  want  some- 
thing different.  Never  satisfied  with  people  or  things  as 
they  are.   .  .  .   You  couldn't  make  me  over,  you  know. 

MARIAN 

I  see  that  now. 

ARTHUR 

No  one  can.  .  .  .  No  fear.  .  .  .  Make  me  over!  .  .  . 
Why?  I  was  good  enough  to  marry  as  I  was.  Why 
aren't  I  good  enough  now?  I'm  no  different.  It's  you 
have  changed.  ...  I  married  a  nice,  sober  girl.  What 
are  you  now  ?  I'm  the  man  you  married.  You're  not  the 
girl  I  did.  .  .  .  You  could  have  gone  my  way  and  every- 
thing'd  have  been  fine.  .  .  .  But  no  one's  going  to  in- 
terfere with  me.     I  won't  have  it.     See?     You  can't. 

MARIAN 

[Hurt  to  the  quick;  realizes  the  whole  thing  is  hope- 
less.]    Your  father  knew  you  better  than  I  did.   ...   If 

[1G9] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

I  had  ever  dreamed  you  could  have  spoken  to  me  the 
way  you  have  nothing  would  have  induced  me  to  marry 
you.  ...  I  only  knew  the  side  you  showed  me.  And  I 
loved  it. — I  wanted  to  keep  the  best  side  of  you  upper- 
most.    But  I  wasn't  strong  enough.     You  didn't  love  me 

well   enough. — So  it's   come   to  this — this [Rather 

than  let  him  see  her  cry  she  goes  into  the  next  room  say- 
ing as  she  goes.~\  It  doesn't  matter  whose  fault  it  is. 
That  is  the  least  thing  to  consider — whose  fault  it  is. 
It's  all  so  wrong.  [Passes  third  door.]  So  very,  very 
wrong. 

[The  door  slips  from  her  fingers  and  bangs  noisily.], 
[Arthur  watches  her  go  out;  gives  a  contemptuous 
laugh.  Goes  over  to  table,  takes  up  glass  Marian 
has  used,  smells  it,  gives  an  ejaculation  of  disgust, 
throws  what  is  left  in  it  on  the  carpet — pours  out  a 
drink — drinks  it — puts  glass  back.  Goes  to  writing 
desk,  takes  out  keys — unlocks  a  drawer,  takes  out  a 
wad  of  French  paper-money — stuffs  it  in  his 
pocket.  The  bell  rings  continuously  at  the  outer 
door.  He  locks  the  drawer  and  goes  unsteadily  to 
the  door.     Throws  it  open.] 

TOM 

[Enters — breathlessly;   anxiously.]      Marian?      She's 
all  right? 

ARTHUR 

All  right?    Of  course  she  is. 

TOM 

[Relieved.]     Thank  God! 

[170] 


Act  III:    PARIS 

ARTHUR 

All  right?    What  do  you  mean? 

TOM 

She  phoned  me  just  now.  She  seemed  upset.  I — was 
— afraid [Stops.] 

ARTHUR 

That  so  ? 

TOM 

However  you  say  she's ? 

ARTHUR 

I  don't  see  what  it  has  to  do  with  you  how  my  wife  is. 

TOM 

I  don't  suppose  you  do. 

ARTHUR 

No,  I  don't.  What  business  have  you  got  coming  here 
at  this  time  of  night? 

TOM 

I  came  because  I  thought  your  wife  was  in  danger. 
.  .  .  Grave  danger. 

ARTHUR 

Did  ye?     What  of? 

TOM 

When  she  phoned  me  she  was  in  great  distress.  She 
seemed  out  of  hand.  Before  I  could  reason  with  her  she 
gave  a  cry  and  cut  off. 

ARTHUR 

That's  when  I  came  in. 

TOM 

I  see.  ...  I'm  sorry  I  disturbed  yon. 

[171] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

ARTHUR 

So  am  I.  And  I  don't  want  you  to  disturb  my  wife 
either.  We're  not  in  America  now — understand  ?  We're 
thru  with  that  riff-raff.  See?  And  I  don't  want  her 
reminded  of  it.  See?  [Shaking  his  clenched  hand  in 
Tom's  face.] 

TOM 

[Closes  the  doors  and  walks  into  the  room  in  front  of 
Arthur.]     Cdme  here. 

[Arthur  staggers  down  and  faces  him.] 
I  came  here  as  I  would  to  save  any  human  being,  from 
doing  a  rash,  terrible  thing.     And  I  warn  you  if  Marian 
does  her  death  will  be  at  your  door. 

ARTHUR 

At  my  door?  Damned  cheek!  [Goes  to  table  and  lifts 
up  decanter.]  This  is  the  cause  of  her  whining!  This. 
She's  drunk — that's  what  she  is. 

TOM 

[Stunned — :  slowly.]     I  don't  believe  it. 

ARTHUR 


Call  me  a  liar? 
I  don't  believe  it. 


TOM 


ARTHUR 

Call  me  a  liar  and  I'll  punch  your  head. 

TOM 

Oh,  no,  you  won't.  .  .  .  But  if  you  say  Marian's  drunk 
you're  either  a  liar  or  a  blackguard.  Because  if  she  is 
drunk  it's  you  who  are  responsible.  .  .  .  Admit  you're 
a  liar  and  let  it  go  at  that. 

[172] 


Act  III:    PARIS 

[With  a  snarl  Arthur  rushes  at  him — Tom  quickly 
and  quietly  raises  his  cane  and  levels  it  at  Arthur, 
moving  round  in  a  circle.] 

TOM 

Don't  come  too  near.  .  .  .  I've  seen  a  man  lose  an 
eye  this  way.  .  .  .  You  deserve  a  good  beating.  ...  I 
wouldn't  fight  a  rat  like  you  .  ...  I'd  beat  you.  .  .  . 
Keep  your  hands  up  a  minute  or  two  longer  and  I  will. 
Drop  them  !     Do  you  hear?    Drop  them! 

[Suddenly  turns  the  cane  so  that  the  heavily-mounted 

head  of  it  is  raised  directly  above  Arthur's  head, 

ready  to  fall.     Arthur  quails;  his  hands  drop;  he 

staggers  back.] 
Sit  down  there.  .  .  .  Don't  reel  about.  [Arthur  drops 
into  seat — cowed.]  Now  try  and  get  this  into  your 
muddled  brain.  .  .  .  You  take  Marian  back  to  her  peo- 
ple, if  you  haven't  the  common  manliness  to  take  care  of 
her.  .  .  .  Don't  make  a  mess  of  her  life.  I'm  going 
away  tomorrow  for  three  days.  If,  by  the  time  I  come 
back,  you  have  made  no  effort  to  care  for  your  wife's 
wishes,  I'll  cable  her  father  to  come  over.  More  than 
that  I'll  go  to  the  American  consul  here  and  put  the 
whole  case  before  him.  If  her  husband  won't  protect 
her  I'll  see  that  some  person  does  until  her  father 
comes.  .  .   . 

[Marian  enters  in  negligee;  she  looks  very  ill.     Her 

eyes  tear-stained — her  voice  dull  as  if  in  pain.] 

MARIAN 

Tom !     Nice  of  you  to   come.  ...  I   feel  very  ill. 

[173] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

Very  ill.  My  head  will  drive  me  mad.  Shall  I  take 
another  of  these?  I  took  one  a  little  while  ago.  .  .  . 
I'm  no  better.  I  can't  read  it  very  well.  My  eyes  are 
burning  so.  And  the  print  is  so  small.  [Hands  him  a 
small  phial.'] 

TOM 

[Takes  it;  reads;  becomes  quite  rigid."]     You  took  one 
of  these? 

MARIAN 

Yes. 

TOM 

When  ? 

MARIAN 

About  ten  minutes  ago.  .  .  .  Perhaps  a  quarter  of  an 
hour. 

TOM 

Arthur!     [With  a  cry.]     Look! 

[Thrusts    the   phial   into   his    hand   and   goes    to    the 

phone.     Keeps  ringing  several  times,  then  unhooks 

and  waits.     Arthur  rises  and  reads  the  label  under 

a  lamp.      Turns  and  looks  at   Marian:  passes  his 

hand  over  his  forehead.     At  last  the  connection  is 

made  and  Tom  speaks  breathlessly  into  the  phone.] 

Is   there   a   doctor   in   the   hotel?  ...  A   doctor?  .  .  . 

Isn't  there  any  other?  .  .  .  Send  for  one.   Quickly.   Tell 

him  it's   for  someone  who  has  taken  poison!     Poison! 

For  God's  sake,  hurry. 

[Marian  gives  a  cry:     "Arthur!"  and  goes  to  him.] 

ARTHUR 

Taken  one? 

[Putting  his  hand  gently  on  her  forehead.] 

[174] 


Act  III:    PARIS 

MARIAN 

Yes.     Isn't  it  for  a  headache? 

ARTHUR 

[Dully  to  Tom.]     No  doctor? 

TOM 

[Taking  the  phial  from  Arthur.]  He's  out.  They're 
sending  for  one. 

ARTHUR 

My  car.  .  .  .  Outside — I'll  go — I  know  the  best — 
Rue  de  Richelieu. 

[Swings    door    open — Madeleine    appears    at    door. 
Arthur  rushes  past  her.] 
Go  in!     Marian's 

[Disappears.'] 

MARIAN 

[Dazed.]  Poison?  Oh,  no.  Is  it?  Poison?  .  .  . 
Not  those  .  .  .  [Gives  a  long  low  moan.]  Oh-h-h ! 
I'm  afraid!     I'm  afraid! 

[Shivers  violently;  Tom  goes  one  side  of  her,  Made- 
leine the  other  and  they  lead  her  to  the  couch,  chat- 
tering and  shivering.] 

MADELEINE 

What  is  it?     What  has  happened? 

[Tom  warns  her  not  to  alarm  Marian.     Hands  her 

the  phial.] 
[Madeleine    looks    at    the    phial    horror-stricken.] 
How  many  did  she  take? 

[175] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

TOM 

One.  Fifteen  minutes  ago.  Arthur's  gone  for  a  doc- 
tor. 

MADELEINE 

Get  milk.  ...  At  once — Milk. 

[Tom  goes  to  the  phone.] 

No,  no.     Go  down  for  it.     Hurry.  .  .  .  Go  down! 

[Tom  rushes  out.] 

MARIAN 

What  have  I  done?  What  have  I  done?  [Crying 
with  fear.] 

MADELEINE 

Don't.  Don't.  [Smoothing  cushions.]  Lie  back, 
dear.  The  doctor  will  be  here.  You'll  be  all  right  when 
he  comes. 

MARIAN 

Oh,  Madeleine!  I  don't  want  to  die!  I'm  afraid  to 
die!     [Clinging  to  her.]     Don't  let  me  die! 

[The  curtain  falls  with  Marian  in  a  state  of  extreme 
terror  and  Madeleine  trying  to  soothe  her,  their 
voices  over-lapping  for  seconds  after  the  curtain 
falls.  In  from  the  adjoining  room  crashes  the  motif 
from  "Madame  Butterfly"  in  its  artistic  jazz 
setting.] 

end  of  act  III 


[176] 


ACT   IV:   THE   AFTERNOON    OF   THE   TENTH 

DAY 

The  same.    Afternoon  of  the  tenth  day. 

When  the  curtain  rises  Madeleine  is  discovered  packing 

books,  framed  photographs,   etc.,   which  she   collects 

from  the  piano  and  the  various  tables. 
Tom  is  sitting,  head  in  hands,  staring  out  into  the  future. 

MADELEINE 

How  many  hours'  sleep  have  you  had  during  the  last 
ten  days? 

TOM 

[Wearily. ~\  I  don't  know.  ...  I  don't  know.  .  .  . 
If  the  doctor  says  Marian  will  live  I'll  sleep  all  right. 
Sleep  sound.  .  .  .  If  he  tells  me  she'll 

MADELEINE 

Why  not  go  to  your  hotel  and  rest? 

TOM 

No.  I  want  to  hear  the  doctor's  opinion.  .  .  .  He 
should  know  today.  .  .  .  He  said  he'd  know  today.  .  .  . 
What  have  you  done  with  Arthur's  things? 

MADELEINE 

I've  sealed  up  his  papers. 

[177] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

TOM 

For  his  father? 

MADELEINE 

Yes,  if  he  wants  them. 

TOM 

Fancy  lying  in  there  for  ten  days.  .  .  .  Wondering — 
torturing  herself.  .  .  .  God !  What  she  must  have  gone 
thru.     Is  still. 

[Suddenly  thru  the  open  windows  come  the  braying 
discord  of  a  jazz-band  from  the  tea-room  below. 
With  an  ejaculation  of  anger  Tom  closes  the 
window.] 

MADELEINE 

Don't  do  that,  Tom.  It's  so  hot.  [Opens  the  win- 
dows despite  Tom's  effort  to  prevent  her.]  It's  breath- 
less. 

TOM 

The}-  can't  even  drink  their  tea  without  that  racket. 
I  hate  it.     [Contracts  his  shoulders.] 

MADELEINE 

[Proceeding  to  pack  as  before.]  Put  up  with  it,  Tom. 
It's  suffocating. 

TOM 

But,  Marian? 

MADELEINE 

She's  two  rooms  away.  I've  closed  both  doors.  She 
can't  hear  it. 

[Telephone  bell  rings.  Tom  starts  up,  expectantly. 
Madeleine  goes  to  the  phone.] 

[178] 


Act  IV:    AFTERNOON  OF  TENTH  DAY 

MADELEINE 

[At  'phone.]  Yes.  .  .  .  Yes.  ...  Oh!  How  are 
you?  .  .  .  I'm  so  glad.  .  .  .  Yes,  do.  .  .  .  Come  right 
up.  [Hangs  up  receiver.]  They're  here.  .  .  .  [Gets 
his  hat,  etc.,  goes  to  him  solicitously.]  I'll  let  you  know 
the  moment  the  doctor  goes. 

TOM 

No.  ...  I'll  avoid  them.  .  .  .  I'll  wait  downstairs. 
I'll  come  up  with  the  doctor.      [Going  quickly  to  door.] 

MADELEINE 

You'd  much  better  go  to  your  hotel  and  rest  comfort- 
ably until  I  call  you. 

TOM 

I    couldn't,   Madeleine.      I    couldn't.   .   .  .   I'll   just — 

just [Goes  out.] 

[Madeleine  quickly  puts  articles  into  the  dressing 
case  and  closes  it.  Door-bell  rings.  Madeleine 
opens  it,  revealing  Hale  and  Carlton.  They  are 
in   traveling  clothes,  light  overcoat  over  arm.] 

MADELEINE 

[Shaking  Hale  by  the  hand,  warmly,  and  bringing 
him  into  the  room.]  Oh,  I'm  so  glad.  She's  been  ex- 
pecting you.     How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Carlton? 

HALE 

[Eagerly,  anxiously.]      How  is  she? 
[Carlton  follows  in,  closing  the  door.] 

MADELEINE 

Very  much  better. 

[179] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

HALE 

She  is? 

MADELEINE 

Very  much — the  last  two  days. 

HALE 

Will  she  be— be  all  right?  .  .  .  Tell  me Don't 

be  afraid. 

MADELEINE 

I'm  sure  she  will  be. 

HALE 

[Hands  on  her  shoulders,  looking  straight  into  her 
eyes.]     Don't  say  that  if  you  don't  think  it. 

MADELEINE 

I  do  think  it. 

HALE 

[Wearily  passing  his  hand  across  his  forehead.]  I 
don't  know  what  I'd  do,  Madeleine.  ...  I  don't  know 
— what  I'd  do.      [His  hand  comes  doxvn  over  his  eyes.] 

MADELEINE 

Come  in  to  her.  She's  a  little  depressed  and  weak,  so 
don't  sympathize.  [Smiles  at  him  and  holds  up  a  warn- 
ing f.nger.]  Be  surprised  she's  looking  so  well.  Say 
she  doesn't  seem  to  be  ill  the  least  little  bit.  Make  her 
laugh,  but  not  too  much.  Be  just  as  you  used  to  be. 
Come  on. 

HALE 

[Nervously,  stopping  her  opening  the  door.]  Has  she 
changed  much  ? 

MADELEINE 

[Nods.]  Yes.  Quite  a  good  deal.  .  .  .  But  you 
mustn't  notice  it. 

[180] 


Act  IV:    AFTERNOON  OF  TENTH  DAY 

HALE 

I  won't.  I  won't.  .  .  .  I'll  be  cheerful.  .  .  .  Yes,  I 
will.  [His  hand  on  Madeleine's  arm,  pleadingly.] 
She'll  live? 

MADELEINE 

Yes.  I  believe  it.  You  must.  She  must.  .  .  .  Make 
her. 

HALE 

All  right. 

MADELEINE 

[Remembering.]  And  another  thing.  Avoid  talking 
about  Arthur.  She  doesn't  know  he's  dead.  She  thinks 
he  was  hurt — seriously  hurt.  That  he  is  recovering. 
She  is  looking  forward  to  seeing  him. 

HALE 

Why  didn't  you  tell  her  ? 

MADELEINE 

The  doctor  wouldn't  let  me. 

HALE 

[To  Carlton.]     You  hear  that? 

CARLTON 

Yes. 

HALE 

When  can  she  be  told? 

MADELEINE 

As  soon  as  she  is  out  of  danger. 

HALE 

Then  she's  not  out  of  danger  yet? 

[181] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

MADELEINE 

/  think  she  is.  I  know  she  is.  But  the  doctor  will 
take  no  chance  of  making  a  mistake.  He  put  ten  days 
as  the  outside  limit.  This  is  the  afternoon  of  the  tenth 
day.  .  .  .  He'll  be  here  in  a  few  minutes. 

HALE 

[Trembles,  tries  to  speak.]     If  he [Stops.] 

MADELEINE 

Don't  think  that.  [Opens  door,  goes  out,  opens  door 
of  Marian's  room.]     Guess  who  I've  brought  you? 

MARIAN 

[Faintly,  from  within.]  Father!  Has  he  come, 
Madeleine  ? 

HALE 

[Heartily,  as  he  goes  in.]  Sure  I  have.  Well,  well, 
well !  Why,  you  look  fine !  Not  a  bit  as  if  you'd  been 
sick.     [Laughing  cheerily.]     Why,  you  look  great! 

[Madeleine  closes  the  door  of  Marian's  room,  re- 
enters and  closes  the  door:  moves  into  the  room.] 

MADELEINE 

Sit  down,  Mr.  Carlton. 

CARLTON 

[Throws  his  hat  and  coat  on  a  chair.]  I'd  rather 
move  about,  if  ye  don't  mind.  [Looks  around  the  room.] 
This  is  where  they  lived? 

MADELEINE 

Yes. 

[182] 


Act  IV:    AFTERNOON  OF  TENTH  DAY 

CARLTON 

[Listens  to  the  favnt  sound  of  the  dance-music. ~\  Got 
it  right  here.     Close  and  handy. 

MADELEINE 

She  can't  hear  it.  Besides,  we're  moving  her  out  of 
here  today.     She's  not  been  well  enough  before. 

CARLTON 

[Stops:  faces  her.]     How  is  she?  .  .  .  Really? 

MADELEINE 

Very  weak.  Very  unhappy.  But  I  have  hope.  She's 
so  much  better  than  she  was.  So — much — better. 
[Shivers  and  sighs.] 

CARLTON 

Been  as  bad  as  that? 


MADELEINE 

Yes. 

CARLTON 

Poison  ? 

MADELEINE 

Yes. 

CARLTON 

Her  father  didn't  tell  me  much.  .  .  .  Accident? 

MADELEINE 

Yes. 

CARLTON 

[Sharply.]      Was  it? 

MADELEINE 

Yes,  it  was. 

[183] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

CARLTON 

[Severely.']     You're  telling  me  the  truth? 

MADELEINE 

Mr.  Carlton! 

CARLTON 

I  see  you  are.  .  .  .  I'm  mighty  glad.  ...  I  couldn't 
get  it  out  of  my  mind  he'd  driven  her  to  it. 

MADELEINE 

[Shaking  her  head  decisively.]     No. 

CARLTON 

Were  you  here  at  the  time? 

MADELEINE 

I  came  just  after  she'd  taken  it. 

CARLTON 

Tell  me.  .  .  .  Go  on. 

MADELEINE 

Her  head  ached.     She  went  into  her  room  and,  by 
mistake,  took  a  bichloride-of-mercury  tablet. 

CARLTON 

[Shrewdly,  suspiciously.]     What  was  she  doing  with 
that  stuff? 

MADELEINE 

Arthur  had  injured  his  hand.     She  used  it  as  a  dress- 
ing for  the  cut. 

CARLTON 

Cut  his  hand,  eh?     Fighting? 

MADELEINE 

A  bottle  burst. 


[184] 


Act  IV:    AFTERNOON  OF  TENTH  DAY 

CARLTON 

Sure.  One  or  the  other.  Did  ye  see  him — after- 
wards? 

MADELEINE 

Once.  He  didn't  know  me.  He  was  never  really  con- 
scious at  any  time. 

CARLTON 

Drunk  when  it  happened,  eh? 

MADELEINE 

No.  He  was  rushing  out  for  a  doctor  for  Marian  as 
I  came  in.  .  .  .  He  was  nervous,  shaken,  frightened. 
His  car  was  waiting  for  him.  He  drove  it  to  the  doc- 
tor's house.  Just  as  he  was  turning  the  corner  of  the 
Rue  de  Richelieu  he  smashed  into  a  car.  It  was  not 
altogether  his  fault.  The  man  was  on  the  wrong  side. 
Gave  no  warning.     He  was  killed  too. 

CARLTON 

I  know.     It  was  in  the  papers. 

MADELEINE 

In  New  York? 

CARLTON 

All  over.  Oh,  yes.  It  was  in  the  papers.  I've  had 
a  good  deal  of  sympathy.  Quite  a  good  deal.  An  edi- 
torial or  two.  A  few  sermons.  And  quite  a  boost  to  the 
reformers.  Quite  a  boost.  And  they  made  the  most  of 
it.  I  must  grant  them  that.  They  made  a  fine  job  of 
it.  He  did  a  lot  of  good  getting  out  the  way  he  did.  .  .  . 
More,  I  guess,  than  he  ever  did  while  he  was  alive.  [She 
looks  at  him  a  moment  in  surprise  and  disgust  and  turns 

[185] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

away.']     Not  used  to  hear  a  father  talk  about  a  dead  son 
that  way,  are  you? 

MADELEINE 

No,  Mr.  Carlton,  I'm  not. 

CARLTON 

Did  ye  know  him  well? 


Yes. 

Very  well? 

Very. 


MADELEINE 

CARLTON 
MADELEINE 


CARLTON 

Oh.  Well,  then,  you  must  know  what  I  mean.  Course 
you  must.  .  .  .  Fine  young  fella.  Strapping.  Full  of 
health  and  strength.  Just  used  it  up  all  wrong.  That's 
all  was  the  matter  with  him.  Used  it  up  wrong.  Bound 
to  come  smash.  If  not  the  way  he  did,  some  other.  .  .  . 
Life's  too  cheap  to  that  kind.  .  .  .  Say,  if  we  could  get 
the  combined  energy  our  young  men  use  up  on  golf, 
tennis,  polo,  automobiles  and  jazz  turned  into  producing 
something,  what  a  country  we'd  have !  No  unemployed. 
Houses  for  everyone.  No  one  discontented.  The  wheel 
spinning  round  full  swing  twenty-four  hours  a  day. 
.  .  .  There  ye  are !  They'd  be  ashamed  to  do  anything 
useful.  Arthur  was.  .  .  .  Well,  he  saw  Paris  and  died. 
That's  all  there  is  to  that. 

MADELEINE 

Please  don't  talk  about  him  before  Marian. 

[186] 


Act  IV:    AFTERNOON  OF  TENTH  DAY 

CARLTON 

Of  course  I  won't.  Not  a  word.  I  might  have  spared 
your  feelings,  too.     I  wish  I  had. 

MADELEINE 

Oh,  it  doesn't  matter.  It  doesn't  matter  about  me. 
But  if  she  speaks  of  him — and  she  will — just  remember 
he  was  badly  hurt.  That's  all.  Just  badly  hurt.  That 
he's  getting  better. 

CARLTON 

Sure. 

MADELEINE 

It  will  be  terrible  telling  her  the  truth  when  the  time 
comes. 

CARLTON 

Terrible?    Why?    Does  she  -want  him  to  be  alive? 

MADELEINE 

Yes,  Mr.  Carlton,  she  does. 

CARLTON 

[Amazed.]     What  d'ye  know  about  that! 

MADELEINE 

She  loved  him,  Mr.  Carlton.     Loves  him  still. 

CARLTON 

Does  she  indeed?  Ye  don't  say?  Still  wants  to  cling 
on? 

MADELEINE 

That's  why  it  will  be  so  hard  to  tell  her.     So  don't — 

don't 

[187] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

CARLTON 

Sure  I  won't.  .  .  .  Still  loves  him.  .  .  .  After  all 
these  months.  .  .  .  That  beats  me.  .  .  .  Guess  she's 
been  pretty  sick  all  right. 

[The  outer  door  opens  and  voices  are  faintly  heard. 
Madeleine  warns  him  with  a  gesture.  Hale  ap- 
pears, Marian  on  his  arm.  She  is  very  white  and 
drawn,  the  dark  clothing  accentuating  her  un- 
earthly pallor,  and  the  wide-open,  distended  eyes. 
Carlton  straightens  up  as  he  looks  at  her,  then 
goes  to  her  and  sympathetically  holds  out  his 
hand.~\ 

CARLTON 

Glad  to  find  ye  looking  so  strong.     Mighty  glad. 

MARIAN 

Have  you  seen  Arthur? 

CARLTON 

No.  Not  yet.  Came  straight  here — with  him.  [Nod- 
ding to  Hale.] 

MARIAN 

Be  kind  to  him,  Mr.  Carlton.  They  won't  let  me  see 
him.     Be  kind  to  him. 

CARLTON 

Sure  I  will. 

[Goes  the  other  side  of  her  and  with  an  attempt  at 

gentleness  assists  her  with   Hale,   to  an  armchair 

Madeleine  has  arranged.] 

[188] 


Act  IV:    AFTERNOON  OF  TENTH  DAY 

MARIAN 

[Smiles  gratefully  up   at   Madeleine.]      Hasn't  the 
doctor  come? 

MADELEINE 

He  won't  be  long  now. 

MARIAN 

It's  the  tenth  day,  Madeleine.  The  tenth.  .  .  .  I've 
counted  them.  .  .  .  And  they've  gone  so  slowly.  .  .  . 
He'll  know  todaj\  He'll  know!  ...  I  can't  bear  the 
waiting.  .  .  .  Why  isn't  he  here?  .  .  .  It's  cruel  of 
him!  .  .  .  [To  Hale.]  For  ten  days  I've  thought  only 
of  death — death — or  life.  Which?  ...  If  death,  how 
should  I  meet  it?  If  life,  what  will  I  do  with  it?  .  .  . 
What?  .  .  .  Day  and  night  that  thought  has  haunted 
me.  .  .  .  All  day.  All  night.  .  .  .  Life?  Death!  .  .  . 
Last  night  I  slept  a  little.  My  long  waiting  was  going 
to  end.  I'd  know  soon.  So  I  slept,  and  dreamt.  Of 
Arthur.  .  .  .  He  came  to  me  white  and  drawn.  He 
stood  at  the  foot  of  my  bed.  And  he  pleaded  with  me — 
pleaded  that  I  should  die.  .  .  .  He  said  he  had  to  go. 
I  must  go  with  him.  ...  I  entreated  him  to  hold  on  to 
life.  As  I  had.  That  it  would  mean  so  much  more 
to  us  than  it  ever  had  because  of  the  terror  and  pain 
we'd  been  through.  I  begged  him  not  to  die.  We'd 
live  cleaner,  think  better,  for  all  we'd  suffered.  We 
must  live.  And  he  looked  at  me  so  sadly,  so  pityingly. 
"Poor  Marian !  Poor  old  Marian  !  Always  making  up 
fairy  tales.  We've  done  with  life,  Marian."  And  I 
woke,  shivering.  .  .  .  And  I  prayed  that  I  might  live. 
That  Arthur  might  live.     [Her  eyes  rest  on  Carlton.] 

[189] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

You  see,  Mr.  Carlton,  for  the  first  time  in  our  lives 
Arthur  and  I  have  been  forced  to  think.  .  .  .  We  were 
cut  down.  ...  It  must  have  been  Fate  beckoned  me  to 
take  that  poison  and  sent  Arthur  out  into  the  night  to 
save  me.  Fate !  ...  It  took  us  out  of  life,  helpless. 
Just  to  lie  for  ten  days  and  nights — thinking.  ...  It 
took  him  in  his  strength  and  crushed  him.  .  .  .  We've 
been  separated — for  a  purpose.  .  .  .  We  both  see  things 
differently  now.  ...  I  will  never  be  the  same  again. 
.  .  .  Nor  will  Arthur.  .  .  .  We'll  be  "newly  arisen" 
when  we  meet.  .  .  .  And  life  will  be  so  different.  So 
very,  very  different.  .  .  .  [Thinking.']  If  I  live!  Oh, 
where  is  the  doctor?  Why  doesn't  he  come?  I  want 
to  know  !     I  want  to  know  ! 

HALE 

Come  !     Come  !     Marian  !    Where's  your  courage  ? 

MARIAN 

I  haven't  any.     I'm  afraid. 

MADELEINE 

Be  quiet,  dear. 

MARIAN 

[Suddenly,  clinging  to  Madeleine.]  Do  you  think 
he  knows  and  doesn't  want  to  tell  me?  Is  that  why  he 
doesn't  come5 

MADELEINE 

Indeed  it  isn't.     He's  often  a  little  late.     You're  not 

his  only  patient.     He'd  be  here  if 

[The  bell  rings.     Marian  gives  a  cry.     Madeleine 

[190] 


Act  IV:    AFTERNOON  OF  TENTH  DAY 

goes  to  the  door  and  opens  it.  Tom  comes  in- 
Marian  gives  a  faint  ejaculation  of  pleasure  on 
seeing  him.] 

TOM 

[To  Madeleine.]  He's  in  the  hall  talking  to  some 
people. 

[Hale  and  Tom  welcome  each  other  warmly:  both 
too  moved  to  speak.  Hale  motions  him  to  go  to 
Marian.  As  Tom  moves  forward  Carlton  inter- 
cepts him.] 

CARLTON 

You  the  doctor? 

[Tom  looks  at  him  in  amazement.] 

HALE 

[With  forced  heartiness,  trying  to  Icuugh.]     No,  John. 

This  is  Tom.  Tom  Carrol.  Mr.  Carlton. 
[Tom  and  Carlton  nod  perfunctorily.] 
[Taking  Tom  to  Marian.]      My!     She'll  be  glad  to 

see  you. 

CARLTON 

Sight  gladder  to  see  the  doctor. 

TOM 

[Taking  Marian's  hand  gently.]  Marian!  [He  can 
say  no  more — just  looks:  the  change  in  her  strikes  him 
dumb.] 

MARIAN 

[Smiling  up  at  him.]  Nice  of  you  to  come,  Tom. 
.  .  .  I've  heard.  .  .  .  He's  been  every  day,  father.  .  .  . 
Every  day. 

[191] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

TOM 

You're  much  better.     Aren't  you? 

MARIAN 

Yes,  Tom.    Anxious.     That's  all.    Anxious.     Tired  of 
waiting. 

TOM 

He'll  be  here  any  moment  now. 

MARIAN 

You  shouldn't  have  come  every  day.     Not  every  day, 
Tom. 

TOM 

I  wanted  to,  Marian. 

MARIAN 

Dear  Tom.  .  .  .   [To  Hale.]     He  has  been  worrying 
Dr.  Virande  to  call  in  specialists. 

TOM 

Why  shouldn't  he? 

MARIAN 

He  did.     The  last  one  made  me  feel  I'd  get  well — for 
a  whole  day. 

TOM 

He  was  right. 

MADELEINE 

Of  course  he  was. 

TOM 

You  will. 

[Bell  rings  sharply.  All  stop  to  look  in  direction  of 
door.  Madeleine  opens  it  softly  and  Dr.  Virande 
comes  quietly  into  the  room.     He  is  a  slim,  shrewd, 

[192] 


Act  IV:    AFTERNOON  OF  TENTH  DAY 

middle-aged   man,  dressed   as   a   distinguished  Pa- 
risian.    He  carries  a  small  black  bag.~\ 

DR.    VIRANDE 

Ah!  Bonjour!  [To  Tom,  turns  to  Marian.]  And 
'ow  is  ma  petite  patient?  What  a  colour!  Ma  foi!  And 
the  eye  so  bright !  Dear,  dear,  dear !  Well,  well,  well ! 
[As  he  opens  the  bag  and  takes  out  stethoscope  and  in- 
strument for  taking  blood-pressure.] 

MADELEINE 

[Nodding  toward  the  three  men.]  Shall  they  go  into 
the  next  room? 

DR.    VIRANDE 

Mais  non  !  Non  !  Make  no  difference !  None  at  all. 
[Taking  Marian's  wrist  and  feeling  her  pidse:  looks  at 
watch.  Perfect  silence.  Marian  watches  him  with  dis- 
tended eyes.  He  closes  watch  with  a  snap.]  What 
'ave  you  been  doing?  Your  pulse  "beat,  beat,  beat!" 
Your  eyes  "dance,  dance,  dance."  Don't  I  tell  you: 
"quiet,  quiet,  quiet?  Repose?"  [Listens  with  stetho- 
scope: again  Marian  stares  out  into  the  future.  He  re- 
moves the  stethoscope.]  "Jump,  jump,  jump!"  What 
a  heart !  "Pump,  pump,  pump  !"  What  a  girl !  To  do 
what  you  tell  her.  [To  Madeleine.]  And  what  a 
nurse  to  let  her  be  all  excitement!  Why?  But  why? 
Don't  I  tell  you  keep  'er  so?  [Makes  gesture  of  per- 
fect rest.]  And  'ere  she  is.  "Bub,  bub,  bub."  "Ha! 
ha!  ha!"  [By  this  time  he  has  fastened  the  blood-pres- 
sure instrument.]     Very  naughty!     You  not  deserve  to 

[193] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

get  well!     Naughty!     [To  Tom.]     You  make  her  this 
way? 

TOM 

[Irritably.]     No! 

DR.    VIRANDE 

Someone  do.  Ah !  I  know !  You  bring  her  another 
specialist?     Eh? 

TOM 

[Angrily.]     I  didn't. 

DR.    VIRANDE 

Not  so  loud,  if  you  please.  [Takes  off  instrument: 
thinks.  Removes  his  glasses  and  xvipes  them.]  All 
right.     Very  good.     All  finished. 

MARIAN 

[With  a  cry.]     I'll  live? 

DR.    VIRANDE 

You  will  live. 

MARIAN 

Madeleine!    Father!     [Cries  as  they  go  to  her.] 

DR.    VIRANDE 

And  now!  What  you  crying  about?  But  you  should 
laugh ! 

MARIAN 

[Laughing  and  crying.]      I  am,  Doctor.     I  am. 

DR.    VIRANDE 

You  are  very  lucky.  .  .  .  Very.  .  .  .  And  you  should 
be  very  grateful. 

MARIAN 

I  am.  I  can  never  thank  you  enough. 


Act  IV:    AFTERNOON  OF  TENTH  DAY 

DR.    VIRANDE 

Thank  me?  How  foolish!  [Points  to  Madeleine.] 
Thank  'er.  She  save  your  life.  Not  me.  ...  It  was 
the  milk  save  you.  Not  the  drugs  I  give  you.  The  milk 
right  away.  That  is  what  saved  you.  [Putting  on  his 
glasses  and  looking  curiously  at  Madeleine.]  Where 
you  learn  that? 

MADELEINE 

[Smiling.']  My  cousin  is  a  doctor.  And  I've  always 
been  interested  in  poisons. 

DR.    VIRANDE 

Ave  you  indeed?  Next  time  put  in  some  eggs  with 
the  milk  and  carry  a  little  stomach-pump  in  your  waist- 
belt.  Then  you  not  need  a  doctor  at  all,  and  we  don't 
have  to  wait  all  these  days,  see?  [Gathering  his  instru- 
ments and  putting  them  in  his  bag.]  Now  you  eat  well, 
sleep  well,  think  well,  an'  you'll  be  fine,  'ealthy  young 
lady  again.  But  no  "pump,  pump,"  "ha!  ha!"  Quiet! 
Rest.  Take  things  easy.  [To  Madeleine.]  So  your 
cousin  is  a  doctor  and  you  love  poisons!  What  are  you? 
A  nurse? 


MADELEINE 


An  actress. 


DR.    VIRANDE 

Ah!  an  actress!    Where  you  play? 

MADELEINE 

In    London.      I    got   permission    to    stay    with    Mrs. 
Carlton. 

[195] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

DR.    VIRANDE 

So  ?    I  do  not  know  'ow  you  act ,  but  you  are  very  good 
nurse.     [To  Marian.]     She  save  you — not  me. 

MARIAN 

When  can  I  see  my  husband? 

DR.    VIRANDE 

[Evasively.]      Presently!     No  'urry. 

MARIAN 

Today?     [He  shakes  his  head.]     Tomorrow? 

DR.    VIRANDE 

A  week  from  today — per'aps. 

MARIAN 

A  rveek! 

DR.    VIRANDE 

We'll  see. 

MARIAN 

But  I'm  well!     I'm  strong!     Why  can't  I  go  today — 
now?     [Trying  to  rise.] 

DR.    VIRANDE 

Ah !  ah  !  ah !    You  want  to  be  ill  again  ?     Lie  on  your 
back  again? 

MARIAN 

No,   no !      I'll   be   careful.      Really   I    will.      Only    I 
must 

DR.    VIRANDE 

What  I  tell  you?     No  excitement!     Lie  still!     There 
you  are.     The  colour  in  your  cheeks !     Your  eyes  danc- 

[196] 


Act  IV:    AFTERNOON  OF  TENTH  DAY 

ing.     Quiet,  I  tell  you.  .  .  .  One  week  from  now  I  see 
you — and  if  you  are  quiet  and  peaceful — all  right. 

MARIAN 

If  I  am  quiet — and  peaceful — may  I  see  him  sooner? 

DR.    VIRANDE 

Per'aps.    We  will  see.     [To  Madeleine.]     You  move 
'er,  yes?     From  'ere? 

MADELEINE 

Today  if  you'll  let  me. 

DR.    VIRANDE 

You  'ave  rooms  somewhere? 

MADELEINE 

[Hands  him  slip  of  paper.]     There. 

DR.    VIRANDE 

[Glances  at  paper.}  That  will  be  good.  It  is  quiet. 
Go  now!  Away  with  you!  The  noise  !  The  din !  Mon 
Dieu!     'Ow  people  live  in  it!     Be  off. 

[Madeleine  hurries  out.  Hale  motions  to  Marian 
to  introduce  him  to  Dr.  Virande.] 

MARIAN 

Oh,  doctor!     My  father! 

DR.    VIRANDE 

Your  father?  Where?  Who?  [Moves  across  and 
shakes  Carlton  warmly  by  the  hand.]  I  am  very  glad 
to  meet  you.     Very  glad. 

[197] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

CARLTON 

That's  fine.     So  am  I  to  meet  you.     Now  shake  hands 
with  her  father.     [Turning  him  toward  Hale.] 

DR.    VIRANDE 

Oh!     [Looking  at  Hale.]      You  'er  father?     [Looks 

at   Marian,    back    to   Hale.]       Certainement,   you   are! 

[Laughs   a   curious   little   laugh   as   he   presses    Hale's 

hand:  looks  at  Carlton  quizzingly.]     What  a  mistake! 

[Madeleine  comes  in  with  Marian's  hat  and  cloak 

which  she  places  on   the  piano.     She  then  calls  to 

Mr.  Carlton  who  joins  her  and  they  both  go  into 

the  room  Arthur  used  to  occupy.] 

HALE 

[Shaking  the  doctor's  hand  warmly.]  Thank  ye,  doc- 
tor. Thank  ye.  .  .  .  And  God  bless  ye!  I'd  like  to 
speak  to  you  for  a  minute  outside. 

DR.    VIRANDE 

You  sick? 

HALE 

No.  ...  I'd  like  to  ask  you  a  few  questions.  [Tears 
are  in  his  eyes:  his  voice  breaks.] 

DR.    VIRANDE 

All  right.      [Turns  to  Marian.]     Au  revoir!     Some 

(time  tomorrow.     And  then  I  see  'ow  you  obey  me.     No 

more      "Zit!      Zit !      Zit!"      Gently!      Easy!      Softly! 

So!     [Pantomimes  resting  placidly.]     Then  you  be — all 

right.     Yes? 

MARIAN 

I'll   sleep   tonight.  .  .  .   I'm   going  to   get  well.  .  .  . 

[198] 


Act  IV:    AFTERNOON  OF  TENTH  DAY 

I'm   going  to   see  Arthur.   .  .  .   Yes,    I'll   sleep   tonight 
without  drugs. 

DR.    VIRANDE 

Throw  them  out  o'  the  window.  I  'ope  you  never 
'ave  to  use  them  again.  Congratulations !  I  'ad  to  be 
sure.  That  is  why  I  keep  you  waiting  so  long.  A  nasty 
poison.  Very  nasty.  We  'ave  to  be  sure  with  it.  And 
I  am,  now.  You  are  safe!  Au  revoir!  [Turns  to  go. 
Hale  walks  with  him  to  door.~\ 

HALE 

Got  quite  a  practice  in  Paris,  eh? 

DR.    VIRANDE 

Oh,  yes.  Pretty  fair.  But  a  dear  friend  of  mine 
wrote  me  from  America  that  it  is  better  there  for  the 
doctors.  Ver'  much  better  for  the  doctors.  .  .  .  Ver- 
tigo after  the  jazz.  And  the  nerves  break  down  from 
keep  going  all  the  time.  Oh,  ver'  much  better  for  the 
doctors.  All  the  time  busy.  Still  Paris  ver'  good  too. 
Improving  every  day. 

[Goes  out  -with  Hale.] 

MARIAN 

[Hands  Tom  back  a  letter  and  photographs  he  has 
been  shewing  her.]  It's  nice  to  see  something  from 
home.  .  .  .  Oh,  I  wish  I  were  back.  .  .  .  Tom !  Have 
you  seen  Arthur?  .  .  .  Have  you?  .  .  .  Madeleine 
won't  tell  me  anything  about  him.     Have  you  seen  him  ? 

TOM 

[Looking  away;  distressed.]  You  love  him  very 
much;  don't  you? 

[199] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

MARIAN 

Of  course  I  do.  .  .  .  But  differently  now.  ...  I  feel 
so    sorry    for   him.  .  .  .  But    I    did   try    to    make   him 
happy.     To  keep  his  love.  ...   I  was  so  afraid  of  los- 
ing him.   .   .  .  Instead  of  helping  him  I  just  let  myself 
drift.   .   .  .   I  tried  to  be  his  companion.   ...  To  please 
him.  ...  So   I    drank   when   he   did:   and   danced   into 
the  night,  and  shouted  with  him.   .  .   .   But  always  dur- 
ing    it     my     heart     ached.   ...   I     was     so     unhappy. 
[Shivers.]      Those  horrible  days  and  nights.     Noise  so 
that   you    couldn't   think.      Laugh    for    fear   you'd    cry. 
Drink  to  keep  yourself  going — to  deaden   feeling.   .   .   . 
Oh,    the    tiredness    of    it.  .  .  .  Always    tired.  ...  To 
have   a   pulse   beating  loudly   through   you   with   weari- 
ness!    [Shivers  as  she  thinks.]     He's  had  time  to  escape 
the  sound  that  kept  us  prancing,  that  hateful,  deaden- 
ing   sound.   .  .   .  And    the   drink   that   made   us    Pagan. 
[The  band  starts  loudly  in  the  restaurant.     She  starts 
up  with  a  loud  cry,  stopping  her  ears.     Hale  and 
Madeleine  enter  and  hurry  to  her.     Tom  shuts  the 
window.      Carlton    follows    Madeleine    into    the 
room.] 
It's  horrible !     Horrible !     It's  as  though  all  the  evil  in 
the  world  was  braying  out  of  those  instruments. 

MADELEINE 

She  hasn't  heard  it  for  ten  days,  Mr.  Hale. 
[Through  the  closed  window  comes  the  mocking,  jeer- 
ing, laughing  note  of  the  dance.] 

[200] 


Act  IV:    AFTERNOON  OF  TENTH  DAY 

MARIAN 

[To  her  father.]  We've  come  a  long  way  from  God, 
haven't  we? 

HALE 

[Trying  to  be  jovial.]  Oh,  I  don't  know.  There's 
not  much 

MARIAN 

[Smiling.]     Harm  in  it? 

HALE 

Not  a  bit. 

MARIAN 

I  used  to  fancy  it  vivacious.  It  is  only  noise,  hide- 
ous noise.  .  .  .  There  is  no  zest,  no  richness,  no  sparkle, 
no  colour,  no  fire  in  the  life  we've  been  living.  ...  I  see 
that  now.  .  .  .  Just  drab,  dreary,  senseless.  .  .  It's 
a  craze.  ...  A  vulgar  excitement  that  needs  drink  or 
drugs  to  endure  it.  .  .  .  And  the  utter  weariness  after- 
wards. [Opens  windows  and  listens  to  the  dance  mu- 
sic.] We  have  come  a  long  way  from  God,  father.  .  .  . 
Listen  to  that !  ...  As  though  lost  souls  were  crying 
to  their  Maker  while  their  bodies  writhe  in  indecent 
rhythm.  It  is  not  a  holy  sound,  is  it?  Oh,  father,  I 
feel  as  tho  I  could  be  a  prophet  to  my  generation. 

CARLTON 

No  one  listens  to  a  prophet,  my  dear. 

HALE 

Oh,  come,  Marian,  it's  not  so  bad.  When  you're  well 
and  strong  we'll  have  many  a  jazz  together. 

[201] 


THE  NATIONAL  ANTHEM 

MARIAN 

No,  father.     It's  lost  its  magic  for  me. 

CARLTON 

Thank  God!  I'm  glad  to  hear  it.  .  .  .  Why  it's 
ridiculous.  London  is  jigging  to  it.  .  .  .  Paris  is  deaf- 
ened by  it.  It  has  become  the  National  Anthem  of  Civi- 
lization. 

HALE 

You  take  it  too  seriously,  John.  Tragedies  happened 
before  the  world  ever  took  to  jazzing. 

MARIAN 

[Smiling.]     Oh,  father ! 

CARLTON 

Reuben,  you're  a  wonder.     No  harm  in  anything. 

MARIAN 

I  hope  Arthur  can't  hear  it  where  he  is. 

CARLTON 

[Very  quietly.]      I'll  bet  he  does. 

MARIAN 

I  don't  think  so.  Madeleine  tells  me  the  hospital  is 
on  a  very  quiet  street. 

[Madeleine    puts    Marian's   cloak    around    her   and 
hands  her  her  hat.] 
I    hope    they   don't   stare   at   me.      I    couldn't   bear   it. 
[Lowers  her  veil,  trembling.]     I  couldn't  bear  it. 

[202] 


Act  IV:    AFTERNOON  OF  TENTH  DAY 

MADELEINE 

Of  course  they  won't.  We'll  go  straight  thru  the  hall 
into  the  cab. 

MARIAN 

Oh,  how  I  want  to  get  away  from  Paris.  I  want  to 
go  home.  .  .  .  You  are  coming,  father?  [Hale  goes  to 
her.~\  Mr.  Carlton?  [Carlton  nods  and  goes  to  the 
chair  for  his  hat  and  coat.]  Will  you  come  with  us, 
Tom? 

TOM 

I'd  like  to. 

[Marian,  Madeleine  and  Tom  go  out.] 

MADELEINE 

[As  she  passes  out.]  Everything  will  be  sent  after 
us,  Mr.  Hale. 

HALE 

[Puts  on  his  hat.]     Coming,  John? 

[With  a  crash  a  dea-fening  jazz  dance  starts  in  the  tea- 
room. Carlton  thrusts  the  windows  wide  open, 
listens  to  it  contemptuously  for  a  moment,  then 
raises  his  hat  and  bows  mockingly  to  it.  As  the  two 
men  go  into  the  corridor 

THE    CURTAIN    FALLS 

The  music  (!)  can  be  heard  for  several  seconds  after- 
wards triumphantly  and  deliriously  proclaiming  its 
right  to  the  proud  distinction  Carlton  conferred  on 
it,  in  this  year  1921 : — 

Civilization's  National  Anthem.] 

THE   END   OF  THE    PLAY 

[203] 


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